


Ask Me No Questions and I'll Tell You No Lies

by OpenPage



Category: 21 Jump Street (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Blasphemy, Drug Use, Hurt/Comfort, Jail, M/M, Masturbation, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-08 11:38:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 48
Words: 109,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpenPage/pseuds/OpenPage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the 21 Jump Street season 3 episode “Blinded by the Thousand Points of Light” and what the resulting consequences could have been for Tom after getting into the black BMW.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Undercover of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer: I do not own 21 Jump Street or any the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. All characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.**
> 
> **No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Prologue**  

A light drizzle of rain fell from the night sky and Dennis Booker turned up the collar of his jacket in an effort to stay warm.  Pushing back his rain soaked hair, he cast an eye at his fellow Jump Street officer, Tom Hanson, who was loitering outside an adult movie store a block down the street.  To the casual observer, Tom appeared to be a homeless street kid prostituting the dangerous inner city streets.  Dressed in scuffed boots, ripped jeans, a red-checkered shirt and faded leather waistcoat, his damp hair hung over his face, obscuring his dark brown eyes.  However, Dennis knew that regardless of his appearance, anyone walking past would immediately see how attractive Hanson was.  Tom possessed a prettiness that was rare in men and if anyone had asked him, Dennis would have used the word _beautiful_ to describe his fellow officer.  

As a bisexual, Booker had been instantly attracted to Tom when he transferred from Internal Affairs to the Jump Street program where Hanson was an undercover cop.  However, he and Tom had almost come to blows on their first assignment together and they now had a strained working relationship.  It was no secret around the Chapel that Tom disliked him.  The only time Hanson spoke to him was when Captain Fuller partnered them together on a case.  It saddened Booker as he thought that under different circumstances, he and Tom could have become friends.  He knew there was no hope of romance, Hanson was very obviously straight, but he would have liked to have the camaraderie that Tom and Doug shared.  Instead, his only real contact with Hanson came through his incessant teasing.  He knew it was childish, like a grade school kid pulling the pigtails of a girl he liked but he could not help it.  If he did not taunt Tom, there would be no connection between them at all and he wanted Hanson in his life, he _needed_ Hanson in his life.  Tom’s aloofness drew him in and he knew he was becoming obsessed, which was unusual for him.  Since joining the force, he had never been close to any of his partners and he wondered if it was because he came off as overconfident and conceited.  He knew he gave off a tough, egotistical exterior but it was mostly a façade.  High school had been a nightmare and he had become the target of bullies because of his sexuality.  He had learned early on to put up a front and become the tough guy or risk being downtrodden forever.  Over the years, the dangerous, street smart, persona had taken over his personality and he found himself portraying the rough exterior even when there was no need to.  It was who he was now and he wondered if the real Dennis Booker even existed anymore.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Booker wandered up and down the wet pavement whilst thinking about the case they were investigating.  Homeless teenage boys who lived on the streets and hustled for a living were turning up dead around the city, their bodies badly beaten and violently sexually assaulted.  Many more were reported as missing by their friends on the streets, the latest being a sixteen-year-old named Aaron Peterson.  The last reported sighting of Aaron was of him getting into a black BMW with tinted windows.  That had been two weeks ago and Booker, Hanson, Penhall, Ioki and Hoffs had been living on the streets posing as homeless teens for the last six days.  Doug and Judy had managed to integrate themselves in with Aaron’s street friends and they were currently living in various abandoned buildings around the city.  Ioki, Booker and Hanson were living at the YMCA.  For all the undercover officers, it had been an uncomfortable and sobering experience.  Their clothes were filthy and they had so far only managed to shower twice in the week that they had been on assignment.  They were lucky if they ate one meal a day and it was a gut wrenching reality check for them all.  To have to witness the homeless fighting to survive, day after day in a city that turned its back on them made them grateful for all that they had.

Looking up at the clock tower, Booker lit up a cigarette and walked over to where Tom was standing.  Arriving outside the adult movie store, he pushed back his dripping hair.  “Ready to call it a night?” he asked, exhaling a white plume of smoke into Hanson’s face as he spoke.

Tom scowled and wrinkled his nose as the acrid smell assaulted his nostrils.  When Booker grinned back in amusement, Hanson could feel his anger rising.  Never in his life had he met someone so arrogant, opinionated and smug, three traits that Hanson loathed in a person.  Even though he hated working with Booker, he never let it interfere with his job as a police officer.  He was proud to serve in the force, as his father had done before him and he would be damned if he would let someone like Dennis Booker prevent him from doing his job.

Pulling out a battered watch from his pocket, Hanson checked the time.  It was nearly 2 a.m. and they had been on the streets since the early hours of the previous morning.  Shoving his hands deep into his jeans pockets, he shrugged his shoulders against the cold.  “Yeah, let’s go,” he muttered and without waiting to see if Booker was following, he headed in the direction of the YMCA.


	2. An Error of Judgment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Looking up at the clock tower, Booker lit up a cigarette and walked towards where Tom was standing.  Arriving outside the adult movie store, he pushed back his dripping hair.  “Ready to call it a night?” he asked, exhaling a white plume of smoke into Hanson’s face as he spoke._
> 
> _Tom scowled and wrinkled his nose as the acrid smell assaulted his nostrils.  When Booker grinned back in amusement, Hanson could feel his anger rising.  Never in his life had he met someone so arrogant, opinionated and smug, three traits that Hanson loathed in a person.  Even though he hated working with Booker, he never let it interfere with his job as a police officer.  He was proud to serve in the force, as his father had done before him and he would be damned if he would let someone like Dennis Booker prevent him from doing his job._
> 
> _Pulling out a battered watch from his pocket, Hanson checked the time.  It was nearly 2 a.m. and they had been on the streets since the early hours of the previous morning.  Shoving his hands deep into his jeans pockets, he shrugged his shoulders against the cold.  “Yeah, let’s go,” he muttered and without waiting to see if Booker was following, he headed in the direction of the YMCA._

**An Error of Judgment**  

The traffic had been light for a Saturday night and Hanson wondered if people were choosing to stay home rather than contend with the unseasonable wet and cold weather that had befallen Los Angeles.  Rain pelted down onto the pavement as passing vehicles splashed up sprays of water from the overflowing gutters, staining Tom’s jeans with mud.  He shivered with cold but he refused to allow himself to feel any self-pity.  There were kids that lived out their existence on the streets because they had no choice.  He at least had a warm apartment to go home to once the assignment was over.

Blowing on his frozen fingers in effort to get them to work, he pulled his black knitted cap further down onto his head and buttoned up his red lumber jacket.  The fingerless gloves he wore offered little warmth against the bitterly cold wind that howled through the neon lit streets and he struggled with the fasteners.  Glancing down the street, he could see Booker and Ioki casually cruising up and down the pavement, each looking as cold and wet as he felt.  He began to question the validity of the eyewitness accounts about a man in a black BMW.  So far, none of the Jump Street team had seen a car matching the description and since Aaron’s disappearance, there had been no other reports of missing teenagers.  Hanson wondered how long Fuller expected them to spend on the streets, pounding the pavements night after night in the freezing rain.  It could well be that _the man_ was an out-of-towner and had already fled the bright lights of L.A. for greener pastures.

Leaning against the cold bricks of an insurance building, Tom again glanced over at Booker.  The dark haired officer was reclining against a light post, casually smoking a cigarette.  Just as Hanson started to turn his head away, he saw Captain Fuller approach Booker and the two men stood talking for several moments.  The young undercover officer looked annoyed but Tom could not tell if he was playing a part or if he really was angry with his superior.  Eventually, Booker followed Fuller around the corner and out of sight.  Tom sighed heavily.  He could no longer feel his feet and he longed to take a hot shower.  However, he quickly remembered that there were homeless people enduring unspeakable hardships every day and he pulled himself together.  It was miserable but he would put up with it without complaint; he owed the city’s destitute that much.

Stamping his feet to try to get some feeling back in his numb toes, he saw Booker sauntering towards him, a cigarette dangling from his lips.  When he reached Tom, he smiled smugly, tossed the butt onto the pavement and ground it out with the toe of his boot in a grand gesture.  Hanson was not amused and his bad mood intensified.  Glaring at his colleague, he frowned in annoyance.  He hated it that Booker could so easily goad him but he was too tired and hungry to pretend otherwise.  “ _What?"_ he asked irritably, as Dennis continued to grin at him.

Booker’s dark eyes danced in delight.  The last few hours had been as boring as hell but being able to provoke Tom was a good way to pass the time.  It was so easy it was hardly sport but Dennis did find it amusing that he needed to do so little to piss Hanson off and get a reaction out of him.  It certainly broke up the tedium of standing on the cold, wet streets for hours on end.  

“I spoke to Fuller,” he replied in a cheerful voice that only seemed to annoy Hanson further.  “We’re to give it another two hours before calling it a night.  We go back to the ‘Y’ and then tomorrow we hand the case over to the local precinct.”

“Thank God,” Tom muttered under his breath.

Dennis tilted his head on one side and gave Hanson a pseudo sympathetic look.  “ _Awww,_ what’s the matter Tommy?” he asked in a baby voice.  “Finding it a bit tough are we?”

Hanson felt his blood pressure rising and he gave Booker a scathing look.  “And you aren’t?” he shot back angrily.

Booker shrugged nonchalantly.  “I’ve done worse,” he replied calmly, secretly enjoying Hanson’s discomfort.  “But don’t worry Tommy.  Only one more night and you’ll be tucked up safe and warm in your bed.”

“Fuck you,” Tom spat and he turned and walked away with Booker’s taunting laughter ringing in his ears.

**

As the hour struck 1.30 a.m. and the temperature plummeted, Tom stood on the sidewalk staring out into the traffic.  He only had to endure the next half an hour and he could go back to the YMCA and get dry and warm.  Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, he started to walk further up the street when out of the corner of his eye, he saw a black BMW pull up to the curb.  He clenched his fists as adrenalin coursed through his veins and his heart began to race.  Strolling over to the car, he waited until the tinted window opened.  “Hey,” he said pleasantly, giving _the man_ inside the car a boyish grin.  “You lookin’ for some lovin’?”

The middle-aged _man_ eyed Hanson up and down.  “How old are you son?” he asked in a low voice.

Tom chewed on his lower lip, hoping against hope that _the man_ would buy his story.  “Sixteen,” he replied softly.

Leaning across the passenger seat, _the man_ opened the car door.  “Get in,” he instructed.

Hanson cast one last look down the street before climbing in beside _the man_ and closing the door.

**

Booker leaned against a light pole with his right foot crossed casually over his left as he repetitively flicked his lighter on and off with the palm of his hand whilst his eyes scanned the wet streets.  Although he had not admitted it to Hanson, he too was feeling the effects of the cold, wet, stormy weather that was so unfamiliar for Los Angeles.  Not that he would ever let Tom see that he too was miserable; there was no fun in that.  Making Hanson crazy relieved the boredom and the only way he could do that was by keeping up his tough exterior.

Thinking of Hanson, Booker turned and gazed down the street.  His hand immediately stilled when he saw Tom approach a black BMW.  Shoving his lighter in his pocket, he moved slowly down the street so he could get a closer look.  “What the hell?!” he exclaimed in horror as he watched Hanson climb into the car and close the door.  He immediately broke into a sprint as the car pulled away, desperate to catch a glimpse of the tag.  As the BMW disappeared into the traffic, Booker stopped and slammed the palm of his hand against a brick walled building.  “IDIOT!” he cried out, ignoring the surprised looks of the few homeless people who were still wandering the streets.  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

Raking his fingers through his hair in frustration, he turned back and saw Ioki running towards him.  “Was that Hanson getting in the car?”  Harry yelled.  

Seeing his chance, Booker sprinted off in the direction that the car had gone.  “Call Fuller!” he shouted over his shoulder to Ioki.  “Get the patrol cars searching for the BMW!”

Arriving at the end of the block, Booker stopped and his eyes frantically searched the intersection.  He caught a glimpse of the BMW several blocks up the street and he took off again, panting heavily as he raced along the slippery pavement.  Stopping for a second time, his eyes darted from left to right but he could see no sign of the car.  Making a quick decision, he ran to the next set of traffic lights but as he stood hunched over with his hands resting on his knees whilst he caught his breath, he knew it was hopeless.  The car could have turned down any number of side streets and he had no chance of searching them all on foot.

“Damn it,” he muttered as he straightened up and jogged back to find Ioki.  He felt a chill of fear run down his spine and he shivered not from the cold but from the panic that he felt rising in his body.  Hanson was an exceptional police officer but this time, he may have unwittingly put himself in a treacherous situation with a dangerous, psychotic man.  

Booker could only hope and pray, that Tom knew what he was doing.

**

Following _the man_ into a disused building, Tom walked up the stairs to the first floor and into a small room.  As the door closed behind him, he tried to tighten his grip on the gun that he had secreted in his jacket pocket.  However, hours of standing on the cold, wet streets had numbed his fingers and he could barely feel the cool metal against his hand.  His heart rate quickened as he furtively glanced around the room.  There was a bed, a chair and a small alcove that Hanson guessed led through to a bathroom.  He attempted to relax and push the uneasy feeling he had aside and concentrate on keeping his wits about him.  Although trained for this kind of situation, he felt nervous and jumpy and adrenalin pumped through his body.  He had not slept well since he had been living at the YMCA and he was now beginning to question his judgment.  By getting into the car with the suspect, he had put himself at unnecessary risk.  The smart thing would have been to keep _the man_ talking in the hope that either Booker or Ioki would have noticed and called for backup or at the very least, memorized the tag.  Now, he was here on his own with a psychopath and not one of his colleagues knew where he was.

Taking a deep breath, he attempted to steady his trembling hands.  Turning around, he gave _the man_ a grin.  “So,” he purred softly, hoping to lull the suspect into a false sense of security.  “What do you want me to do?”

 _The man_ stared deep into Tom’s face and his lip curled cruelly.  “You look just like my son,” he murmured and his eyes glinted callously.

The statement took Hanson aback and he found himself faltering.  “Um, okay,” he replied as he increased his grasp on his gun and silently willed his frozen fingers to come to life.  “I guess that’s a good thing.”

Ignoring Hanson’s comment, _the man_ shrugged off his coat.  “Turn around,” he instructed, throwing the jacket onto the chair that stood next to the unmade bed.

Tom scowled, hoping his look portrayed that of a disgruntled teenager.  “I don’t turn my back on anybody,” he responded with an arrogant snort.

“I said… turn around,” _the man_ commanded in a low, menacing voice. 

Realizing that he needed to do as _the man_ asked so that he could arrest him in the act, Tom reluctantly turned and faced away from the suspect.  After ten seconds of waiting, he began to spin back around when an immense pain exploded in the back of his head and he fell to the floor with a cry.  Dazed, he struggled to sit up but _the man_ hit him again from behind, knocking him back down onto the dirty carpet.  He managed to lift his head and he felt blood pouring down his face, stinging his eyes and blurring his vision.  Pulling out his gun, he waved it drunkenly at his attacker.  “Stop,” he gasped as the room spun before him.  “I’m a… police… officer.”

 _The man_ stepped forward and kicked the gun out of Tom’s hand.  It spun several feet across the room and landed against the door.  Hanson tried to get his addled mind to work but the ferocity of the attack left him feeling dizzy and confused.  When his vision cleared for a moment, he could see that _the man_ was holding a truncheon like black stick.  He attempted to drag himself towards the door but _the man_ easily intercepted him.  “Going somewhere?” _the man_ asked, his voice sounding somewhat amused as he grabbed Hanson by the legs and pulled him towards the bed.  “Where’s the rush?  You may not be a teenage boy but I’m pretty sure I can still make you scream.”

Terror gripped at Tom’s heart and he tried to get his arms and legs to move.  However, _the man_ had no problem overpowering him and he found himself lying on the bed as _the man_ tied his arms to the bedposts.  “No!”  Tom cried out weakly, his failing body useless in fighting off _the man’s_ powerful hands.  “Just _stop!"_

 _The man_ reached into Hanson’s jacket pocket and pulled out his badge.  “So _Officer Hanson_ ,” he smirked.  “You thought you could trick me into believing you were a teenage boy?  How’s that working out for you?”

Tom knew he had to think quickly or risk becoming _the man’s_ next victim.  “They know… where I… am,” he gasped, the pain in his head making it difficult to concentrate.  “They’ll… be here… any… second.”

Pulling off Tom’s boots, _the man_ laughed.  “Somehow Officer Hanson, I doubt that,” he replied as he removed Tom’s socks.  “If they were following us, they would be here by now.”  Sitting down on the bed, _the man_ reached out and unbuttoned Tom’s jeans before slowly pulling down the zipper.  

Hanson strained against his bindings, his eyes wide with fear.  “ _NO!"_ he screamed, tears streaming down his panicked face and mixing with the blood that stained his pale skin.  “OH GOD PLEASE _STOP!"_

Standing up, _the man_ pulled Tom’s denims from his kicking legs.  “Stop moving,” he growled and picking up the baton, he waved it menacingly at Hanson’s face.  “If you don’t stop moving I’ll bash your skull in.”

Tom immediately stopped kicking and he screwed his eyes shut as _the man_ fondled his cock through his boxers.  “ _P-Please_ s-s-stop,” he sobbed.  “P-P-Please!  Oh God!  Th-this c-can’t be h-happening!”

“Oh it’s happening Officer Hanson,” _the man_ laughed.  Slipping his fingers into the waistband of Tom’s boxers, he slowly pulled them down and once free, he threw them to the floor.  “I like what I see,” he continued softly as he trailed the truncheon lightly over Hanson’s genitals.  “And I’m going to have some fun.”  

“HELP ME!  OH GOD HELP…”  Tom yelled but his words turned into a scream as the butt of the stick slammed into his stomach.  Snot bubbled from his nose and he drew his legs up in pain as hot tears poured down his face.

Sighing in annoyance, _the man_ pulled out a handkerchief and roughly wiped at Tom’s face.  As Hanson lay groaning, _the man_ stood up and began to undress.  Once naked, he reached down and pulled out a tube of lubrication.  Opening the cap, he squeezed out a dollop and rubbed it over his burgeoning erection.  Climbing onto the bed, he forced Tom’s legs apart and positioned himself between them.  When Hanson again began to fight, _the man_ forcibly pushed the end of the truncheon up under his chin.  “If you know what’s good for you cop, you’ll lie there and take it,” he snarled.

As _the man’s_ cock pushed inside him, Tom started to scream.

**

Sitting in the passenger seat of a patrol car, Booker’s eyes frantically searched the city streets for any sign of the black BMW.  It had been nearly an hour since Hanson had left with _the man_ and Dennis was fraught with worry.  He listened to the scanner, desperate for any word on Tom but the news remained the same; all patrols on the lookout but so far no sightings.

As the rain finally eased, the young officer behind the wheel switched off the wipers.  The lights of the city formed dancing rainbows of color across the windscreen as Dennis stared silently out of the glass, his eyes absorbing the details of every car that they passed.  When they turned down a narrow laneway, he leaned forward in his seat before slamming his hand down on the dashboard.  “STOP!” he yelled and before they had braked to a standstill, he leaped from the car.

Running up to the black BMW, he placed his hands on either side of his eyes and peered into the window.  The tinting prevented him from seeing anything but he was certain the car was empty.  Spinning around, he took in his surroundings.  Directly opposite the parked car was a building with a partially open metal door.  Drawing his gun, he called out to the other officer.  “Radio for backup.  I’m going in.”

Pushing open the door with his foot, Dennis carefully surveyed the darkened interior before entering, his gun raised in readiness.  A narrow staircase led off from the right and he slowly ascended, stopping to pause each time a step creaked.  When he reached the top, he saw that there were several rooms leading off from the hallway.  All the doors were open except one and he cautiously made his way towards the closed door.  Standing outside, he pressed his ear against the wooden paneling but he could not hear anything.  A cold fear gripped at his heart and reaching out, he slowly opened the door.

Booker’s breath caught in his throat when he saw Tom sitting against the back wall with his arms resting on his bent up knees and his hands pressed against his mouth.  There were still faint traces of blood on his pale skin but it looked as though he had attempted to wash it off.  However, what wrenched at Booker’s heart was Tom’s expression.  Hanson’s eyes stared blankly in front of him and as Dennis watched in horror, a single tear trickled down his face.  

Quickly glancing around him, Booker entered the room and immediately went towards the open alcove.  After checking that it was empty, he rushed over to Tom and knelt down beside him.  Placing a gentle hand on Hanson’s shoulder, he struggled to keep his voice from shaking.  “Jesus Christ Tommy, are you okay?”

Tom immediately shrank from the contact.  “Don’t touch me!” he yelped, his eyes staring wildly at Booker.

Standing up, Dennis took a step backwards.  “What the hell happened?” he asked quietly, frightened by Tom’s reaction.

Scrambling unsteadily to his feet, Hanson leaned against the wall.  “I let him get away,” he muttered in a barely audible voice.  “He hit me over the head and took my gun.”

However, Booker was barely listening to Tom’s explanation.  His eyes were fixed on Hanson’s clothing and he noticed that his jeans were unbuttoned and hanging low on his waist.  As he was about to question his colleague further, Fuller and Penhall burst into the room with several uniformed officers.  Dennis immediately stood back and watched silently as Penhall put a comforting arm around Tom’s shoulders and embraced him tightly.  He noticed that Hanson flinched slightly but he did not pull away from the contact.  Whilst Fuller began bombarding Tom with questions, Booker walked to the door.  

Turning back, he once again glanced at Tom’s disheveled clothing before leaving the room.


	3. Don't Ask Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Booker’s breath caught in his throat when he saw Tom sitting against the back wall with his arms resting on his bent up knees and his hands pressed against his mouth.  There were still faint traces of blood on his pale skin but it looked as though he had attempted to wash it off.  However, what wrenched at Booker’s heart was Tom’s expression.  Hanson’s eyes stared blankly in front of him and as Dennis watched in horror, a single tear trickled down his face._
> 
> _Quickly glancing around him, Booker entered the room and immediately went towards the open alcove.  After checking that it was empty, he rushed over to Tom and knelt down beside him.  Placing a gentle hand on Hanson’s shoulder, he struggled to keep his voice from shaking.  “Jesus Christ Tommy, are you okay?”_
> 
> _Tom immediately shrank from the contact.  “Don’t touch me!” he yelped, his eyes staring wildly at Booker._
> 
> _Standing up, Dennis took a step backwards.  “What the hell happened?” he asked quietly, frightened by Tom’s reaction._
> 
> _Scrambling unsteadily to his feet, Hanson leaned against the wall.  “I let him get away,” he muttered in a barely audible voice.  “He hit me over the head and took my gun.”_
> 
> _However, Booker was barely listening to Tom’s explanation.  His eyes were fixed on Hanson’s clothing and he noticed that his jeans were unbuttoned and hanging low on his waist.  As he was about to question his colleague further, Fuller and Penhall burst into the room with several uniformed officers.  Dennis immediately stood back and watched silently as Penhall put a comforting arm around Tom’s shoulders and embraced him tightly.  He noticed that Hanson flinched slightly but he did not pull away from the contact.  Whilst Fuller began bombarding Tom with questions, Booker walked to the door._
> 
> _Turning back, he once again glanced at Tom’s disheveled clothing before leaving the room._

**Don't Ask Me**

Captain Adam Fuller sent each of his officers home so they could shower, eat and get a few hours sleep.  Tom had protested about having to go to the hospital first but his superior had asserted his command by telling him that he would not allow him back to the Chapel until he received a report that he was fit for work.  Penhall had offered to take Tom to Saint Mary’s but he refused, insisting that he was fine and that he would go in a patrol car and find his own way home.  Fuller instructed his charges to meet back at the Chapel at two that afternoon so they could debrief and type up their reports.

As he climbed into the waiting patrol car, Tom could feel Booker’s gaze upon him.  Turning around, he stared unemotionally at the dark haired officer.  He knew Dennis suspected that something else had happened besides him being bashed and having his gun stolen.  However, because he was having trouble acknowledging it in his own mind, he refused to admit to himself that something else _had_ happened.  He felt numb inside, almost as though he were in a dream except it was not really a dream, it was a living nightmare.

When he saw Booker’s dark eyes gazing at him with unveiled pity, it was too much for him to bear.  Getting into the car, he slammed the door shut and closing his eyes, he laid his head back against the seat.  As the car headed towards the hospital, the numbness in his mind was replaced by the sound of screaming.

**

Tom stayed at the hospital for several hours under observation and the doctor eventually released him with instructions to take it easy for a few days.  He caught a cab back to his apartment and as he walked down the hallway towards his door, he felt tears welling in his eyes.  Stumbling into his apartment, he slammed the door shut and leaning his back against it, he started to weep.  His legs began to tremble and he slowly slid to the floor, sobbing hysterically as the memories of the assault flooded his mind in vivid color.  He felt completely helpless and completely alone.  The thought of any of his colleagues knowing that he had become a victim, that _the man_ had violated him in such a humiliating way was too much for him to bear.  

Suddenly, he remembered Booker’s knowing expression and his body started to shake uncontrollably.  Dennis was the last person in the world that he wanted knowing about the rape.  As the word _rape_ echoed in his mind, his stomach churned and he started to feel sick.  Scrambling to his feet, he dashed towards the bathroom and only just managed to reach the toilet before he vomited.  As he retched into the bowl, he suddenly remembered a terrifying detail of the attack; _the man_ had not used a condom.  His skin became clammy as his mind started to panic and another wave of nausea washed over him.  His body shuddered and he spewed watery bile into the toilet bowl until his stomach was empty.  Closing the lid, he pressed the flush button and when his legs felt steady enough, he slowly stood up.  Leaning heavily on the hand basin, he stared at his reflection in the mirror.  His face was deathly pale and there was still residual blood streaking his skin.  Turning on the cold faucet, he cupped his hands under the cool water and rinsed out his mouth.  Grabbing the soap, he lathered it up in his hands and scrubbed at his face before rinsing it off.  Lifting his head, he again gazed into the mirror at his dripping reflection.  The face that stared back at him was not his own, it was a ghost, a mere shadow of his former self.  

Pulling a towel off the rail, he patted his face dry and slowly, he began to undress.  Once naked, he turned on the shower and adjusted the faucets until a hot spray of water flowed from the shower head.  Stepping under the scalding water, he gasped as it burned his skin.  Bracing his hands against the white tiled wall, he let the water cascade over him.  After several minutes, he picked up the soap and vigorously washed his entire body.  As his fingers touched his anus, he winced in pain but it did not stop him thoroughly cleansing himself.  A small voice in the back of his mind was screaming at him to stop, telling him that any evidence that was on his body was now swirling down the drain and into the sewage system.  However, even though as a police officer he knew he was making a huge mistake, he did not care.  In his mind, because he was not going to tell anyone about the rape, destroying the evidence was a moot point.

Forty minutes later, he stepped out of the shower.  Picking up his towel, he briskly dried his hair and body.  After brushing his teeth, he scooped up his discarded clothes and walking into the kitchen, he opened a drawer and took out a large black garbage bag.  Tossing the clothes inside, he tied up the bag and threw it next to his front door so that he could throw them in the trash when he left the apartment.  He entered his bedroom and for a moment, he stared at his bed, longing to climb under the clean sheets and sleep until the memories of his ordeal left him forever.  However, he knew that sleep would probably bring on nightmares and he could not face the thought of reliving his torment in vivid detail.  Sighing heavily, he grabbed some clean clothes and quickly dressed.  Raking his fingers through his damp hair, he looked at the clock.  The luminous numbers showed that it was only eight o’clock in the morning; he still had seven hours to kill before he was due back at the Chapel.

Wandering into the living room, he lay down on the couch and picking up the remote, he switched on the television.  Flicking through the channels, he settled on a black and white Western.  His eyes gazed vacantly at the screen and as the Cowboys and Indians fought out their epic battle, all Tom could hear was the haunting echoes of his screams.

** 

Pulling his Mustang into a parking space, Tom turned off the ignition but did not get out of the car.  Gripping hold of the steering wheel, he closed his eyes and willed the tremors that plagued his body to subside.  Having not slept in over twenty-four hours, he felt disassociated from his body, almost punch drunk.  His stomach growled in hunger but in reality, he had no appetite and the thought and smell of food made him feel nauseous.  Once again, tears threatened to spill from his tormented brown eyes and he knew he needed to pull himself together if he was to fool his colleagues into thinking that everything was okay.  The last thing he needed was to breakdown in a room full of cops.

Pressing the heels of his hands firmly against his eyes, he slowly composed himself.  Although his hands still shook, he was confident that he could pull off the charade.  All he had to do was get through the next few hours and then he could return home and allow himself to fall into the mind numbing depression that was threatening to consume him.

Climbing out of his car, he jumped involuntarily when he saw Booker standing beside him.  Slamming the door closed, he turned to face his nemesis.  “What the fuck is your problem?” he scowled.  “Haven’t you got anything better to do than constantly harass me?”

Ignoring Tom’s remark, Booker gave him a penetrating stare.  “We need to talk.”

Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, Tom walked straight past the dark haired officer.  “No,” he replied tersely.  “We really don’t.”

Patience had never been Booker’s virtue and he grabbed hold of Hanson’s arm as he passed and held him firm.  “I’m serious Tom,” he snapped.  “If that man did something to you, you need to report it.  You should go and speak to a department shrink and you need to go to the hospital in case there’s any evid—” 

Tom’s eyes widened in outrage and he roughly pulled himself out of Dennis’ grasp.  “I don’t know what the _fuck_ you’re talking about!” he yelled.  “I _told_ you what happened; he hit me over the head and stole my gun.  Why the _hell_ are you implying something else?”

For the briefest of moments, Booker’s hard exterior melted away and his dark eyes softened.  “Because your jeans were unbuttoned Tommy,” he murmured quietly.  “And I can’t think of any other explanation for it.”

Hot bile rose in Hanson’s throat and he struggled to swallow it down; Booker knew.  His worst nightmare had come true; the man he despised most had seen straight through his lies and had figured out _exactly_ what had happened.  

Struggling to keep his composure, Tom refused to meet Booker’s inquiring gaze and instead, he stared off into the distance.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered softly.  “Nothing else happened, end of story.”

Understanding that he needed to tread warily or risk pushing Hanson over the edge, Booker backed off.  Nodding his head slightly, he stepped aside so Hanson could pass.  “Whatever you say,” he replied quietly.  “But if you need someone to talk to—”

Tom turned and gave Dennis a snide look.  “You’d be the last person I’d go to,” he shot back and turning on his heel, he pushed past Booker and headed into the Chapel.

**

When Dennis finally entered the Jump Street headquarters, Hanson was in Adam Fuller’s office.  As he passed by, Booker could see through the glass window that their Captain was talking animatedly at Tom, who was sitting quietly in a chair chewing on his thumbnail.  Dennis paused for a moment and when Fuller caught him looking in, he got up from behind his desk and walked over to the window.  He gave the dark haired officer a hard glare before deliberately closing the shutters.  

Sighing softly, Booker made his way over to his desk and sat down.  Penhall, Ioki and Hoffs were also at their desks, all furiously typing up their reports so they could put work behind them and relax for the rest of the day.  As it was a Sunday, they would not start on any new cases until the following morning.

An hour later, Dennis had finished typing and he was resting casually against his desk with his ankles crossed, carefully reading through his report.  He had omitted any mention of Tom’s disheveled appearance when he had found him crouched on the floor in the small room.  Although he knew it was a breach of protocol not to report everything that had happened he did not want to put Tom in an uncomfortable position if what he surmised was in fact, incorrect.  He needed to be sure of his facts before he put anything in writing.  

Hanson was now sitting behind his desk, talking to Doug, Harry and Judy.  Putting down his paperwork, Booker turned his attention to their conversation.  

“So,” Penhall declared in a loud, cheerful voice.  “How ‘bout drinks at the BoHo Bar?  I reckon we’ve earned it.”

“I’m in,” Harry replied enthusiastically.  “Anything to get my mind off the last week.  I had to throw out my clothes they were so filthy.”

Penhall turned his attention to Hoffs.  “How ‘bout it Jude?” he asked with a grin.

Judy returned Doug’s smile.  “Yeah, I’ll come.  I was going to go home and soak in the tub but drinks sound like fun.  What about you Hanson?”

Hearing his name, Tom looked up with a startled expression.  “Huh?  What?” he asked, bringing his mind back to the present and staring at Judy in puzzlement.

“Drinks at the BoHo,” Judy stated with an impatient sigh.  “Are you in or out?”

“Um, out,” Tom replied softly as he rubbed his fingers over his lips.  “I’m kind of tired.”

Penhall began to jiggle his body.  For a large man, he was surprisingly rhythmic and he danced lightly on his feet around Tom’s chair, his fingers clicking in tempo with his swaying hips.  “Aw c’mon Tommy, so you didn’t collar the bad guy, it happens.  Lighten up!  Let’s go have some fun.”

Pushing his chair back abruptly, Tom stood up.  “I said no!” he snapped, his eyes flashing angrily.  

Doug stopped dancing and gave Hanson a wounded look.  “Hey pal, I was only trying to cheer you up.  There’s no need to take my head off.”

Raking his fingers through his hair, Tom managed a watery smile.  “Sorry,” he mumbled.  “I guess I really need to get some sleep.”

Putting a hand on Hanson’s shoulder, Penhall gave his best friend a concerned look.  “Are you _sure_ you’re okay?” he asked quietly.  “If you want to talk, we can—”

“I’m fine,” Tom replied curtly.  Pushing past Penhall, he headed towards the door.  “I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

Ioki nudged Judy and she shrugged her shoulders.  They all knew that Hanson felt guilty at letting the perpetrator escape but they were surprised at the level of his misery.  Not every bust went cleanly, it was all part of the job and you had to learn to put it behind you and move on.

As Tom walked past him, Booker caught Penhall’s eye and raising a questioning eyebrow, he waited for an invite to join them at the bar.  “Like you’d come,” Penhall scoffed.  

Pushing away from the desk, Dennis walked over to Doug and looked him directly in the eye.  “Probably not,” he replied quietly.  “But it would be nice to be asked.”  Turning away, he sauntered out of the Chapel, his swagger portraying a careless attitude where as in truth, Doug’s rebuff stabbed him like a knife.


	4. Oh No, Not You Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Putting a hand on Hanson’s shoulder, Penhall gave his best friend a concerned look.  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked quietly.  “If you want to talk, we can—”_
> 
> _“I’m fine,” Tom replied curtly.  Pushing past Penhall, he headed towards the door.  “I’ll see you all tomorrow.”_
> 
> _Ioki nudged Judy and she shrugged her shoulders.  They all knew that Hanson felt guilty at letting the perpetrator escape but they were surprised at the level of his misery.  Not every bust went cleanly, it was all part of the job and you had to learn to put it behind you and move on._
> 
> _As Tom walked past him, Booker caught Penhall’s eye and raising a questioning eyebrow, he waited for an invite to join them at the bar.  “Like you’d come,” Penhall scoffed._
> 
> _Pushing away from the desk, Dennis walked over to Doug and looked him directly in the eye.  “Probably not,” he replied quietly.  “But it would be nice to be asked.”  Turning away, he sauntered out of the Chapel, his swagger portraying a careless attitude where as in truth, Doug’s rebuff stabbed him like a knife._

**Oh No, Not You Again**

_Monday morning_

The sound of his own screaming pulled Tom from his nightmare and he sat up gasping, his naked body drenched in perspiration.  His breath hitched in his throat as his body trembled violently and tears coursed down his cheeks.  Pulling his legs up, he wrapped his arms protectively around his knees and sobbed uncontrollably.  He felt lost and he did not know whom to turn to for help.  Even though Penhall was his best friend, he felt too ashamed to confide in him about the rape.  He could picture Doug’s horrified expression and he knew that if he told him, his friend would never view him through the same eyes again.  Captain Fuller was the obvious answer but once again, Tom could not bear the thought of his superior knowing his secret shame.  Also, if he told Fuller, the Captain would have to make a report and then it would be on his file for all to see.  

As his breathing slowly calmed, Tom wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand.  It did not really matter if he divulged his secret or not, either way, he would still feel violated, his body forever desecrated and he knew he would never be the same Tom Hanson he had been two days ago.  Nothing could change the way he felt about himself now, how he loathed his body, how he no longer wanted to be touched or even looked at.  However, most of all he hated himself.  He should never have gone with _the man_ without taking the proper precautions first.  The rape was his fault and he would have to live with that knowledge forever.

Glancing at the clock, he swiped angrily at his tears and climbed out of bed.  He walked into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee before heading into the bathroom.  After relieving his bladder, he adjusted the faucets in the shower so the temperature was as hot as he could bear and stepping into the cubicle, he closed the curtain around him.  He gritted his teeth as the scalding water washed away the invisible sins that coated his entire body, making him feel dirty and disgusting.  Picking up the soap, he scrubbed himself repeatedly until his skin started to wrinkle under the constant pressure of the hot water.  After washing his sweat soaked hair, he turned off the faucets and stepped out of the shower.  He rubbed himself dry and brushed his teeth but as he stood at the hand basin, he ignored his reflection in the mirror.  His appearance sickened him to the core and he knew if he caught a glimpse of himself, he would probably slam his fist into the glass when he saw the ghostly apparition staring back at him.

Walking into the bedroom, he dressed in a white t-shirt, jeans and boots.  He grabbed a jacket out of his closet and pulled it on, not wanting too much of his body to be on show.  Raking his fingers through his hair, he entered the kitchen and poured himself a cup of sweet, black coffee.  He had not eaten anything since the day of the rape but he knew if he did eat, his stomach would reject it.  Leaning against the kitchen counter, he sipped at his coffee and tried to ignore the tremors in his hands.  He knew the coffee was not helping but he needed something warm in his belly.  Draining the last mouthful from his cup, Tom swiped the back of his hand across his mouth.  Taking a deep breath, he put down the cup and held his hands out in front of him, willing them to stop shaking.  However, no matter how hard he tried, his hands continued to quiver.  He decided that his best option was to keep his hands in his pockets and hope that nobody noticed.

Picking up his car keys, he exited his apartment.  He took the stairs rather than the elevator, unconsciously delaying the inevitable.  As he walked outside, he stopped abruptly and stared with disbelief at the vision of Booker lying across the hood of his car, casually smoking a cigarette.  Panic set in and he clenched his hands into tight fists as he fought to get his emotions under control.  Striding over to Booker’s Cadillac, he stared angrily down at his nemesis.  “What the hell are you doing here?”

Blowing a cloud of smoke in the air, Dennis smiled infuriatingly.  “I told you, I think we need to talk.  Now either you come clean with me or I’m going to Fuller with my suspicions.”

Tom rubbed his fingers nervously over his upper lip.  “And what exactly are your suspicions Booker?” he asked quietly, trying desperately to keep his voice from quavering.  “Tell me what theory you’ve yanked out of your—”  The word _ass_ was on the tip of his tongue but this time his voice did falter.  Clamping a hand over his mouth, his eyes grew wide and tears of distress and humiliation filled his dark orbs.  Choking back a sob, he turned and stumbled away but within moments, two strong, muscular arms wrapped him in a tight embrace.  He fought to pull away, punching ineffectively at Booker’s broad chest before finally collapsing into his arms as he wept uncontrollably.  

Dennis’ hand gently caressed Tom’s tousled hair as he held him close.  He remained silent, offering comfort through touch only.  After several minutes, Hanson wriggled free of Booker’s hold and wiping at his tear stained face, he stared silently at the ground.

Stepping forward, Dennis placed a hand on Tom’s arm.  “Hanson, you need to speak to Fuller about this,” he encouraged in a soft, reassuring voice.

Tom jerked away from Booker’s touch and his eyes flashed crazily.  “YOU STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!” he screamed.  “IF YOU SAY ANYTHING TO ANYONE ABOUT THIS, I SWEAR TO GOD, I’LL KILL YOU!

“Tom—” Booker started but Hanson turned quickly away and getting into his car, he slammed the door closed, cutting off the sound of Dennis voice.  Seconds later, he sped from his parking space, his tires squealing in his wake.

Booker stood watching the blue Mustang disappear down the street.  He had no idea what he was supposed to do.  It was obvious that Tom had suffered some sort of trauma at the hands of _the man_ and if so, he needed to seek professional help.  The word _rape_ kept echoing around Dennis’ mind and he felt sick to his stomach at the thought of _the man_ violating Tom in such a way.  

With a sigh of frustration, he climbed into his car.  He needed to make a decision and he needed to make it fast.  It was obvious that Hanson was on the brink of a breakdown and that made him dangerous to work with.  As a police officer, one counted on their partner to be rational and clear headed, especially during a time of emergency.  Tom’s unstable mind could put others in jeopardy and Booker knew he could not live with himself if he allowed that to happen.

Turning the key in the ignition, he pulled away from the curb and drove towards the Chapel.

**

Captain Fuller stood in his office doorway, a slight frown creasing his dark brow.  His gaze remained fixed on Hanson, who was sitting at his desk staring blankly in front of him.  Fuller thought Hanson looked unwell and he wondered if he should send him home, at least for a few days.  The missing runaways’ case had taken its toll on all the young officers but Tom seemed the most affected.  Adam understood that Hanson felt guilty because he had not apprehended the suspect but to the senior officer, there seemed to be more to it than that.  Tom’s behavior was far more subdued than usual and Fuller knew that on the force, mental fitness was as important as physical fitness.

Making his decision, he stepped out of his office.  “Hanson!” he yelled across the crowded room.  “My office, now!”

Tom lifted his head and gazed around the room in a daze.  Penhall sauntered over and sat down on his desk.  “You’d better get moving buddy or Coach’ll have your balls,” he joked, hoping to get Tom to smile.

Instead, Tom ignored the remark and standing up, he walked slowly into Fuller’s office.  “You wanted to see me Cap'n?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“Sit down Hanson,” Fuller instructed.  Tom did as his Captain asked.  Adam stood up and closed his office door before taking a seat behind his desk and giving Tom a penetrating stare.  “Is there something wrong Hanson?” he asked bluntly, never one to beat around the bush.

“No Cap’n,” Tom muttered, his eyes averting Fuller’s inquisitive stare.  “Why do you ask?”

Leaning back in his leather chair, Fuller tented his fingers in front of his face and continued to stare at Tom’s pale face.  “You don’t look well Tom,” he stated softly.

Rubbing his fingers furiously over his top lip, Hanson managed a half smile.  “Yeah, I guess I’ve had some trouble sleeping.  But don’t worry Coach, I’m fine, honest.”

Fuller narrowed his eyes for a moment and studied Tom’s weary face before making his determination.  “I want you to take a couple of days off,” he commanded in a no nonsense voice.  Seeing that Tom was about to protest, he held up his hand to cut him off.  “And that’s an order.”

Sighing heavily, Tom’s lip protruded into a pout.  “Is that all?” he asked moodily.

Fuller stood up and handed Hanson a piece of paper.  “You need to get a new gun assigned,” he replied in a businesslike tone.  “Here’s the paperwork.”

Taking the form out of his superior’s hand, Tom stood up.  “Thanks Cap’n,” he muttered and turning away, he walked out of the room.

Booker sat cross-legged on his desk chewing a piece of gum.  He watched with interest as Tom walked out of Fuller’s office and back to his desk, where Penhall was still sitting.  It was obvious that Hanson was not happy and Dennis wondered what their Captain had said behind closed doors.

When Tom arrived at his desk, Penhall nodded in the direction of Booker.  He had noticed Dennis’ acute interest in Tom since they had started back at the Chapel after their last case and he was curious as to what it all meant.  “What’s up with Booker?” he asked.  “He’s been staring at you funny all day.”

Tom shrugged his shoulders.  “Who knows,” he muttered.  “It’s Booker; the guy’s a fucking nutcase.”

Penhall let the comment pass.  He actually did not mind Booker but because of Hanson’s immense dislike of their colleague, he kept his distance.  Neither Judy nor Harry gave Booker much of their time either as they found the dark haired officer arrogant and opinionated.  Penhall often wondered why Dennis did not make more of an effort to fit in but he had decided long ago that it was none of his business and Booker could do what he liked.

Changing the subject, Doug picked up the form that Tom had put down on his desk.  “So, is that all Fuller wanted?” he asked, waving the piece of paper at Hanson.  “To give you this so you can get issued with another gun?”

Tom was not in the mood for an interrogation from Penhall.  He tried to keep the irritation off his face but he knew he had failed miserably when he saw Doug raise an eyebrow.  “I’m taking some leave,” he replied stiffly.  “Is that okay with you?”

Hanson’s voice was dripping with sarcasm and Penhall immediately saw red.  “Geez!” he exclaimed crossly as he slammed the piece of paper back on top of Tom’s desk.  “No need to get all worked up Hanson.  I was only asking.”

Tom started to apologize but Penhall turned his back and walked away.  He felt the ever-present tears stinging his eyes and picking up the paperwork, he walked quickly across the room, terrified that the tears would begin to flow.  As he passed Booker’s desk, he felt dark eyes boring into him.  Spinning on his heel, he jabbed his finger into Dennis’ chest.  “You need to back off!” he hissed, his misty eyes flashing dangerously.

Booker’s face remained impassive but his words were direct and to the point.  “I can’t do that Tommy,” he replied softly

“SCREW YOU!” Tom yelled.  Several heads turned and looked in their direction but Tom did not stick around to answer their accusatory stares.  He gave Booker one last hate filled look before storming out of the Chapel.  



	5. Emotional Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Tom was not in the mood for an interrogation from Penhall.  He tried to keep the irritation off his face but he knew he had failed miserably when he saw Doug raise an eyebrow.  “I’m taking some leave,” he replied stiffly.  “Is that okay with you?”_
> 
> _Hanson’s voice was dripping with sarcasm and Penhall immediately saw red.  “Geez!” he exclaimed crossly as he slammed the piece of paper back on top of Tom’s desk.  “No need to get all worked up Hanson.  I was only asking.”_
> 
> _Tom started to apologize but Penhall turned his back and walked away.  He felt the ever-present tears stinging his eyes and picking up the paperwork, he walked quickly across the room, terrified that the tears would begin to flow.  As he passed Booker’s desk, he felt dark eyes boring into him.  Spinning on his heel, he jabbed his finger into Dennis’ chest.  “You need to back off!” he hissed, his misty eyes flashing dangerously._
> 
> _Booker’s face remained impassive but his words were direct and to the point.  “I can’t do that Tommy,” he replied softly_
> 
> _“SCREW YOU!” Tom yelled.  Several heads turned and looked in their direction but Tom did not stick around to answer their accusatory stares.  He gave Booker one last hate filled look before storming out of the Chapel._

**Emotional Rescue**  

Slamming his apartment door closed, Hanson tossed his keys into the metal bowl on top of his bookcase.  He had left the Chapel and gone straight to the police weaponry department and he was now in possession of a 9mm Glock.  It suddenly occurred to him that _the man_ knew his name and if he wanted to find him, he could easily look him up in the telephone directory.  The thought caused his heart to race erratically and perspiration dotted his forehead.  Sitting down on the couch, he pulled the gun out of its holster and held it in his hand, the weight of the metal instantly making him feel safer and less vulnerable.  If _the man_ crossed his threshold now, he would kill him without a moment’s hesitation.  He was ready and this time he would defend himself or die trying.

A dull throbbing in his temples told him that he really needed to eat something.  However, the thought of food still made him feel nauseous so he decided to drink instead.  He was on two days forced leave so there was no reason why he could not get blind drunk and forget everything that had happened to him, at least for a short time.  Putting the gun on the table, he walked into the kitchen and bending down, he opened a cupboard door and pulled out an unopened bottle of Jack Daniels.  Grabbing a glass, he sat back down on the couch and poured himself a stiff measure.  Taking a large gulp, he grimaced slightly as the spirit burned his throat.  Refilling his glass, he picked up the gun and held it in his hand whilst sipping at his drink.  The Glock was now his best friend, the only protection he had against the silent fear that terrorized his mind.  

After his fifth glass, Tom’s demeanor slowly began to change.  Instead of having the desired relaxing effect, the alcohol was making him depressed and overemotional.  Tears slid down his cheeks and as he stared at the gun in his hand, thoughts of suicide entered his mind.  Lifting the Glock, he pointed it at his face and stared down the barrel.  It would be so easy to pull the trigger and then all his pain would be gone.  Flicking off the safety, he gripped the gun tighter and placed the muzzle under his chin.  His eyes screwed shut and his hand began to tremble.  Placing his finger on the trigger, he tried to steady his hand but he was shaking uncontrollably.  Hot tears leaked from his eyes and he started to sob.  As his finger squeezed against the trigger, he had a moment of clarity and in his mind, he saw his mother standing at his graveside, crying inconsolably.  

With a distressed cry, he threw the gun onto the couch and burying his face in his hands, he completely broke down, sobbing hysterically.  That he had come so close to ending his own life terrified him and it was then that he knew he needed help.  He picked up the phone and started to dial Penhall’s number when he heard a loud banging on his door.  The phone immediately dropped from his fingers and he quickly replaced it with the gun.  Pointing the Glock at the door, he was certain that _the man_ was standing outside waiting to terrorize him.   Standing up, he crept forward until he was only inches from the door.  He remained silent, waiting for _the man_ to try to break in and then he would do what he had to do; he would shoot the son-of-a-bitch dead.

Tom’s fantasy exploded when he heard Booker’s voice calling out from the hallway.  “Open the door Hanson; I know you’re in there!” Dennis yelled as his fist continued its onslaught on the wooden paneling.  

Without lowering the gun, Tom wiped the sweat from his upper lip.  “Go away!” he shouted.  “Why won’t you leave me alone?  Just _FUCK OFF!"_

The banging immediately stopped and when Booker spoke, his voice was surprisingly gentle.  “Please Tommy, open the door, I’m really worried about you.”

Swiping at the tears on his face, Tom found himself wavering.   He was rational enough now to know that he needed help.  It was frightening how easy it had been to put a gun under his chin and contemplate suicide.  Booker was the last person he would have ever thought of turning to for assistance but he was desperate.  He needed someone to take his gun so that the temptation to end it all was no longer there.  If he did not act now, there was a very strong likelihood that the next time he broke down he would put a bullet in his skull.

Dropping his hand, he felt all the fight leave his body.  He stepped forward, unlocked the door and turned towards the couch.  Sitting down, he held his head in his hands; his fingers still gripping the handle of the Glock.  He heard Booker enter and then a soft voice spoke to him.  “Give me the gun Tommy.”

Looking up through tear-filled eyes, Tom stared at Booker imploringly.  “Help me,” he sobbed.  “Oh God… please help me!”

Reaching out, Booker gently disengaged Tom’s fingers from the Glock.  Flicking on the safety, he tucked it into the waistband of his jeans and sat down next his distraught colleague.  He hesitated for a moment before placing a comforting arm around Hanson’s shoulder.  “Jesus Tommy,” he whispered as Tom sobbed against his chest.  “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“He raped me!” Tom cried, his voice rising hysterically.  “Oh God Booker, he _RAPED_ me!”

Even though Dennis had guessed that _the man_ had sexually assaulted Tom, hearing the words spoken aloud sent a chill down his spine.  He realized that he needed to be careful what he said to Hanson, as it was obvious that the young officer was close to breaking point.  Holding the trembling man in a tight embrace, Booker lightly stroked his hair.  “It’s okay now Tommy, I’m going to get you some help,” he murmured softly.

Lifting his head, Tom’s eyes grew wide.  “ _NO!_ ”  he cried out.  “Booker please!  I don’t want anyone to know!”

Deciding that it was better to lie than risk upsetting Tom further, Dennis nodded.  “Okay Tommy, I won’t tell anyone at the department.  But you need to see a doctor.  If he didn’t wear a condom…”  His voice trailed off and the unspoken words hung silently in the air between them.  

Sniffing loudly, Tom nodded.  “Okay, but not today.  I can’t face it… I’m just so fucking tired, I can’t think straight.”

When Booker gave him a warm smile, Tom noticed a huge difference in the officer’s face.  The arrogant sneer disappeared, replaced by full, inviting lips and his dark, mocking eyes softened as they crinkled at the corners.  For the first time, Hanson saw a glimpse of the _real_ Dennis Booker and he was surprised when the word _beautiful_ popped into his mind.  He quickly pushed the unwanted thought away, hoping that it was his distraught mind playing tricks on him because the idea that he thought Booker beautiful was almost too much for his confused mind to bear.

Thinking that Tom was waiting for him to reply, Dennis nodded.  “Okay, but I’m taking you to the hospital tomorrow, no argument,” he said in a soft but firm voice.

“Okay,” Tom murmured and disengaging himself from Booker’s hold, he stood up.  However, emotion and fatigue finally overcame him and the room started to spin.  “I think… I need… to lie… down,” he mumbled before his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed onto the floor.

Jumping to his feet, Dennis just managed to catch Tom by the shoulders, preventing his head from hitting the floor.  Kneeling down, he cradled Hanson in his lap whilst gently stroking his face.  When Tom’s dark eyes flickered open, Dennis gazed down at him worriedly.  “Jesus Hanson,” he exhaled with relief.  “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry,” Tom muttered, lifting his head and smiling awkwardly.  “I haven’t been eating.”

Helping Hanson to his feet, Booker kept a steadying arm around his waist as he walked him into the bedroom.  Tom lay down on the bed and Dennis gave him a reassuring smile.  “Get some rest,” he instructed.  “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

A hot flush stained Tom’s cheeks.  “You don’t have to stay,” he muttered, unable to meet Booker’s concerned gaze.  “I’m not a baby.”

An amused grin played over Booker’s lips.  “Nobody said you were,” he replied teasingly.  “Now get some sleep.”

Tom watched Booker leave the room and pull the door partly closed behind him.  Closing his eyes, he relaxed back against the pillow.  For the first time since his attack, he felt safe knowing that Dennis Booker was in the other room watching over him.

**

Sitting on Tom’s couch, Booker stared at the muted television.  Hanson had been asleep for over two hours and he was grateful to have the time to think.  He had promised Tom that he would not divulge his secret but it was a promise he could not keep.  As a police officer, he had an obligation to keep his fellow officers safe from harm and Hanson was a loose cannon.  Although he did not want to make Tom’s sexual assault public, he knew he needed to tell Fuller so he could take the appropriate action and get Hanson some psychological help.  He felt terrible that he had to betray Tom’s trust but he hoped that in time, Hanson would forgive him.  There was also the worry of the loaded gun.  Booker had no idea if Tom took the safety off because he felt threatened or if there was a more sinister motive.  The idea that Hanson might be suicidal was a difficult one to come to terms with, but it was that thought and that thought alone that made Booker’s decision to reveal Tom’s secret a much easier one. 

A high-pitched scream pulled Booker back from his contemplations and he jumped from his seat and ran into the bedroom.  He found Tom sitting up in bed, panting heavily, his eyes bulging with panic.  His clothes were drenched in sweat and his face was a deathly pale mask of terror.  Being careful not to startle the frightened officer, Booker sat down on the mattress and placed a comforting hand on Hanson’s shoulder.  “Hey Tommy, it’s okay, you had a nightmare,” he crooned softly.

Turning his wide-eyed expression towards Booker, Tom’s body trembled violently and he began to stutter as he clutched desperately at his protector’s arm.  “N-No!  H-He was h-here!  I s-saw him!  I s-saw _him!”_

Pulling Hanson into a gentle embrace, Booker stroked at his sweat soaked hair.  “No he wasn’t Tom,” he reassured quietly.  “It was a dream.  I’ve been here the whole time; no one came into the apartment.”

Raising his head, Tom gazed into Booker’s dark, consoling eyes and his breathing slowly calmed.  “Are you sure?” he whispered.  “Because I really thought I saw him.”

Booker smiled.  “I’m sure,” he murmured.  “I promise you Tom, I won’t let anyone hurt you, okay?”

“Okay,” Hanson muttered.  Settling back against the pillows, he stared up at Booker shyly.  “Will you stay here with me?” he mumbled.  “I don’t want to be alone.”

Swinging his legs onto the bed, Booker lay down next to Tom.  “Of course I will,” he replied gently.  “And when you wake up, we’ll order pizza.  You really can’t afford to lose any weight.”

Dennis’ last statement made Tom smile.  “Yeah well, we can’t all be muscle men like you,” he teased.

Booker grinned.  It was a relief to see Tom smile, even if it was only a small one.  Placing his hands behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling.  What a difference a few hours made.  It seemed like only moments ago Hanson was screaming at him to fuck off and now they were lying together on his bed.  Booker hoped that the tide had turned and he and Hanson could finally become friends.  

Closing his eyes, his mind filled with images of Tom and he silently prayed that his betrayal would not put an end to that dream.  



	6. An Unguarded Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: A high-pitched scream pulled Booker back from his contemplations and he jumped from his seat and ran into the bedroom.  He found Tom sitting up in bed, panting heavily, his eyes bulging with panic.  His clothes were drenched in sweat and his face was a deathly pale mask of terror.  Being careful not to startle the frightened officer, Booker sat down on the mattress and placed a comforting hand on Hanson’s shoulder.  “Hey Tommy, it’s okay, you had a nightmare,” he crooned softly._
> 
> _Turning his wide-eyed expression towards Booker, Tom’s body trembled violently and he began to stutter as he clutched desperately at his protector’s arm.  “N-No!  H-He was h-here!  I s-saw him!  I s-saw him!”_
> 
> _Pulling Hanson into a gentle embrace, Booker stroked at his sweat soaked hair.  “No he wasn’t Tom,” he reassured quietly.  “It was a dream.  I’ve been here the whole time; no one came into the apartment.”_
> 
> _Raising his head, Tom gazed into Booker’s dark, consoling eyes and his breathing slowly calmed.  “Are you sure?” he whispered.  “Because I really thought I saw him.”_
> 
> _Booker smiled.  “I’m sure,” he murmured.  “I promise you Tom, I won’t let anyone hurt you, okay?”_
> 
> _“Okay,” Hanson muttered.  Settling back against the pillows, he stared up at Booker shyly.  “Will you stay here with me?” he mumbled.  “I don’t want to be alone.”_
> 
> _Swinging his legs onto the bed, Booker lay down next to Tom.  “Of course I will,” he replied gently.  “And when you wake up, we’ll order pizza.  You really can’t afford to lose any weight.”_
> 
> _Dennis’ last statement made Tom smile.  “Yeah well, we can’t all be muscle men like you,” he teased._
> 
> _Booker grinned.  It was a relief to see Tom smile, even if it was only a small one.  Placing his hands behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling.  What a difference a few hours made.  It seemed like only moments ago Hanson was screaming at him to fuck off and now they were lying together on his bed.  Booker hoped that the tide had turned and he and Hanson could finally become friends._
> 
> _Closing his eyes, his mind filled with images of Tom and he silently prayed that his betrayal would not put an end to that dream._

**An Unguarded Moment**  

Waking from a light nap, Booker turned his head and gazed at Tom’s sleeping face.  He smiled to himself as he studied Hanson’s fine, delicate features and his stomach flip-flopped with longing.  Tom’s beauty took Dennis’ breath away and he wished he could pepper the soft, perfect skin with tender, reassuring kisses.  At the thought, his cock twitched with arousal and he quickly looked away.  He was not there to seduce Tom; he was there because he had real concerns for Hanson’s welfare.  Also, he knew he had no chance of ever making Tom his own.  Hanson was straight and Booker would just have to satisfy himself with fantasies of Tom’s hot mouth wrapped around his cock whilst he brought himself to climax with his own hand.

Sitting up, he looked at the time and saw it was nearly 6pm.  He climbed carefully off the bed so as not to awaken Hanson and walked out into the kitchen.  Seeing a pizza menu stuck on the refrigerator door, he grabbed the phone and dialed the number.  He order two large pizzas with the lot and walked back into the bedroom.  Sitting down on the bed, he laid a hand on Tom’s shoulder and gave it a gentle shake.  “Hey Hanson, it’s time to wake up,” he murmured softly.

Tom’s eyes fluttered open and he gazed sleepily up at Booker.  “What time is it?” he asked, rubbing his hand over his face.

“Gone six,” Booker replied.  “I hope you don’t mind but I’ve ordered some pizza.”

Struggling to a sitting position, Tom gave Dennis an embarrassed look.  “You don’t have to stay with me,” he muttered.  “I’m okay on my own.”

Booker smiled sadly.  “Yeah I do,” he answered before adding in a quiet voice, “And no, you’re not.”

Swinging his legs off the bed, Hanson stood up and stared down at Dennis.  “What exactly does that mean?” he asked, his voice sounding strained.

Having never been one to prevaricate, Booker decided to be candid with Hanson.  He exhaled heavily and stared into Tom’s narrowed eyes.  “When I arrived here, you had a loaded gun in your hand with the safety catch off.  Either you were ready to shoot someone or you were ready to shoot yourself.  Either way, it tells me that you shouldn’t be on your own.”

Tom’s eyes widened in shock and he ran a trembling hand through his tousled hair.  “I…” he began, but the rest of his words were lost when he choked back a sob.  Memories of the cold steel muzzle pressed against his skin overwhelmed him and he clamped his hand over his mouth as tears filled his dark brown eyes.  

Seeing the distress on Tom’s face, Dennis stood up and wrapped his arms around his colleague’s quivering body, pulling him close.  “Oh God,” Hanson whispered against Booker’s neck.  “I wanted to end it Booker.  I had the gun… and I put it under my chin… Oh God, I just wanted the pain to stop!  But then I thought of my mom… and I couldn’t… I just cou—”

“Shh,” Booker murmured softly as Tom broke down and wept.  “It’s good that you told me.  Now we can get you some help.”

Pulling away from Dennis’ embrace, Hanson glared at the dark haired officer and wiped at his nose with the back of his hand.  “I told you,” he replied in a tense voice.  “I don’t want anyone to know.”

Realizing his faux pas, Dennis’ quickly thought of a response.  “I just meant _I_ could help you,” he covered quickly.  “You know, I could stay here for a few days until you’re feeling better.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed and he studied Booker’s face as he tried to work out if he was lying.  Finally convinced that Dennis was telling the truth, he managed a small smile.  “Yeah, okay.  I guess I could use some company.”

Booker sighed inwardly and returned the smile.  A loud knock signaled the arrival of their pizza and Booker pulled out his wallet and went to answer the door.  He felt relieved that he had managed to placate Tom so quickly and he recognized that he needed to be more careful with what he said or he risked pushing Hanson over the edge.

**

After eating two slices of pizza, Tom once again retired to the bedroom.  Booker took the opportunity to phone Captain Fuller and feign sickness so he could take a couple of days off work and be there for Hanson.  His superior sounded slightly suspicious but he granted Booker the leave and told him to report in first thing Thursday morning.

Kicking off his boots, Dennis turned off the lights and switched on the TV before settling back on the couch.  He knew that tomorrow would be a difficult day, especially for Hanson.  There would be blood tests and an internal exam and then the interminable wait for the results.

However, Booker knew that no matter what the results were, he would be by Tom’s side every step of the way helping him through it.   His feelings for the young officer were becoming more intense as each hour passed and he was aware that he needed to be careful and not overstep the boundaries of their blossoming friendship.  If he did, he risked losing Hanson forever.

  
**

Sunlight filtered in through the partially shuttered window, the warm rays shining down on Booker’s sleeping face.  Screwing his eyes tightly shut in an effort to block out the light, Dennis groaned and rolled over onto his side.  He groaned again as the ache in his back spread down to his hip.  Opening his eyes, he sat up and rubbed his face with his hands.  Tom’s couch was only a two-seater and he had spent an uncomfortable night with his knees bent up and his head resting on a flat cushion.  

Standing up, he braced his hands against his lower back and stretched out his spine as he yawned loudly.  He had spent a good part of the night comforting Tom.  Vivid, terrifying nightmares continuously plagued Hanson throughout the night and he woke constantly, screaming in terror, his tense body drenched in sweat.  Each time, Booker held him in his arms and gently rocked him until his breathing slowed and he once again closed his eyes and fell back into a troubled sleep.  However, the scenario repeated itself over and over throughout the long night and neither man managed to get much sleep.

Pushing open the bedroom door, Booker stared at Tom’s sleeping form lying in a tangle of sheets.  His face looked surprising tranquil and Dennis felt his heart flutter.  Pulling the door closed, he went into the bathroom and closed the door.  He relieved his full bladder before searching for a towel.  Once located, he hunted through the bathroom vanity until he found a toothbrush still in its packaging.  Taking it out, he ripped off the wrapping and placed it next to the basin.  Booker had no problem making himself at home in Tom’s apartment.  He did not want Hanson to feel put out by having a guest in his home and the easiest way to do that was to fend for himself.

Stripping off his clothes, he stepped into the shower and turned on the faucets, partially pulling the curtain closed around the cubicle.  He sighed contentedly as the warm water eased his stiff, aching muscles.  He washed his hair before picking up the soap and lathering his body with the sweet smelling bar.  When his fingers ran lightly over his genitals, his cock immediately twitched to life.  Moaning in pleasure, he braced his left hand against the tiled wall and dropping his head, he fondled his thick cock.  His fingers played lightly over his growing erection and when he pictured Tom’s face in his mind, he began to tug at his growing shaft.  A loud groan escaped his lips and he quickened his pace.  Heat exploded in his belly and he could feel his orgasm rising.  “Oh Tommy,” he breathed softly.  “Oh God.”

The bathroom door suddenly opened and Tom wandered in, his eyes blurry with sleep.  Dennis yelped in surprise, the sight of Hanson pushing him over the edge. Ejaculating forcefully over his fingers, his juices mixed with the warm water and flowed down the drain.  Hanson’s head turned at the sound and his eyes widened in astonishment at the sight of Booker with his cock in his hand.  Booker’s face flamed bright red and he quickly pulled the shower curtain closed as his heart began to hammer in his chest.  The shame of being caught masturbating overwhelmed him and hot tears burned his eyes, obscuring his vision.

An awkward silence stretched out between the two men before Tom finally spoke.  “Geez Booker, I’m sorry,” he mumbled from the other side of the shower curtain.  “I forgot you were here.”

“That’s okay,” Dennis replied softly, his voice quivering slightly.  “I should have closed the curtain.”

Tom chewed uneasily on his lower lip.  “Well, um, I’ll let you finish up.”

Booker did not bother to reply.  When he heard the bathroom door close, he let out a relieved sigh.  He could not believe how stupid he had been.  How difficult was it to lock the fucking door?  Turning off the faucets, he stepped out of the shower and buried his burning face in the fluffy white towel.  He had no idea if Tom had heard him moaning his name but he did know that seeing a naked man climaxing in his shower was probably not what Tom’s fragile mind needed to witness.  However, it had been an innocent error of judgment on Booker’s part and all he could hope was that Hanson would be able to see it that way and laugh it off.  The last thing he wanted was to add to Tom’s anguish because of a stupid mistake.

After toweling himself dry, Booker brushed his teeth and dressed back in his clothes.  He stood for several minutes staring at the door before finally finding the courage to open it.  Wandering out into the living area, he saw Tom sitting on the couch.  Hearing Booker’s footsteps, Hanson turned his head and smiled uncomfortably.  “Finished?” he asked quietly.  “Because I really need to take a piss.”

“Yeah,” Booker replied, unable to meet Tom’s gaze.  Tom stood up and walked silently past him and into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.  Dennis heard the soft click of the lock turning and his face once again burned scarlet.  Hoping to take his mind off his humiliation, he searched through Hanson’s refrigerator for something to make for breakfast.  Settling on scrambled eggs and toast, he busied himself with the preparation.  Half an hour later, he turned to see Tom standing next to him.  He smiled awkwardly and held up a skillet.  “Eggs okay?” he asked.  “I thought we could have breakfast and then I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

Tom’s jaw clenched and his hands balled into tight fists.  “I’ve changed my mind,” he replied, the stress evident in his voice.  “I’m not going to the hospital.”

Booker gave Tom a hard glare.  “I told you yesterday, it’s not negotiable,” he answered back crossly.  “You need to be examined by a doctor.”

Hanson’s eyes flashed angrily.  “Who died and made you fucking in charge?” he yelled.  “We’re not friends Booker, you can’t tell me what to do!  I can make my own decisions.”

Slamming the pan down on top of the stove, Dennis completely lost his temper.  “You’re such a fucking _PRICK_ Hanson!” he shouted.  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m the _only_ one who seems to be concerned about your welfare; no one else gives a damn!  You say you can make your own decisions but you were stupid enough to get in a car with a known psychopath!  Fucking brilliant!  Well fine, you know what?  I don’t need this shit.  Just don’t come crying to me the next time you put a gun to your head.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Booker instantly wished he could take them back.  Tom’s wide eyes filled with tears and he stood gaping at Dennis, the harshness of the words reverberating in his mind.  Cursing inwardly at his lack of tact, Booker took a step forward and tried to put his arm around Tom’s shaking shoulders.  “Tommy I’m sorry,” he muttered.  “I didn’t mean that.”

Hanson immediately stepped out of Booker’s reach.  “You’re right,” he murmured, his voice trembling with emotion.  “It’s my fault, I deserved to be raped.”

“No!” Booker exclaimed in horror.  “That’s not what I meant!  I… damn!  I don’t know why I said that.  Tommy please, I didn’t mean it, I’m just so worried about you and I really want to take you to the hospital to make sure you’re okay.”

Covering his face in his hands, Tom started to weep.  “What if I’ve caught something!” he cried out in despair.  “What if I’ve contracted HIV?”

Suddenly Hanson’s reluctance to go to the hospital became clear to Booker.  He was terrified that the results would show that _the man_ had infected him with HIV and as the old adage said, ignorance was bliss.  Moving forward, Dennis pulled Tom against his chest and held him close.  “Oh Tommy,” he muttered into Hanson’s hair.  “Whatever happens, there are plenty of people who love and care about you and they will help you through it.”

Lifting his tear stained face, Tom gazed deep into Booker’s dark eyes.  “Including you?” he whispered.

A lump formed in Dennis’ throat and he swallowed it down.  “Including me,” he affirmed and keeping his arms wrapped around his new friend, he prayed to whichever Gods were listening, to give Tom a clean bill of health.  



	7. Broken Promises, Broken Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Hanson immediately stepped out of Booker’s reach.  “You’re right,” he murmured, his voice trembling with emotion.  “It’s my fault, I deserved to be raped.”_
> 
> _“No!” Booker exclaimed in horror.  “That’s not what I meant!  I… damn!  I don’t know why I said that.  Tommy please, I didn’t mean it, I’m just so worried about you and I really want to take you to the hospital to make sure you’re okay.”_
> 
> _Covering his face in his hands, Tom started to weep.  “What if I’ve caught something!” he cried out in despair.  “What if I’ve contracted HIV?”_
> 
> _Suddenly Hanson’s reluctance to go to the hospital became clear to Booker.  He was terrified that the results would show that the man had infected him with HIV and as the old adage said, ignorance was bliss.  Moving forward, Dennis pulled Tom against his chest and held him close.  “Oh Tommy,” he muttered into Hanson’s hair.  “Whatever happens, there are plenty of people who love and care about you and they will help you through it.”_
> 
> _Lifting his tear stained face, Tom gazed deep into Booker’s dark eyes.  “Including you?” he whispered._
> 
> _A lump formed in Dennis’ throat and he swallowed it down.  “Including me,” he affirmed and keeping his arms wrapped around his new friend, he prayed to whichever Gods were listening, to give Tom a clean bill of health._

**Broken Promises, Broken Dreams**  

When they arrived at Saint Mary’s, Hanson refused to tell the triage nurse the reason for his visit.  Booker stepped forward and speaking in a quiet voice, he explained the need for blood tests, an internal exam and a rape kit.  The rape kit was in all probability a waste of time but Dennis was going to leave no stone unturned.  Any evidence, no matter how small, was evidence that could help to put a sadistic rapist behind bars.  The catch was that they had to find the bastard first.

Sitting down on one of the red plastic chairs that lined the emergency room, Hanson filled in the required paperwork with a shaky hand.  Once finished, he gave the clipboard back to the nurse and sat back down.  His eyes remained downcast, refusing to meet Booker’s gaze.  His right leg jiggled nervously and he chewed at the skin around his thumbnail.  An hour past, then two and as the third hour ticked by, Tom stood up and broke the silence.  “This is bullshit, let’s go.”

“Thomas Hanson?” a nurse called out and Tom’s eyes immediately filled with apprehension.  

Standing up, Booker placed a reassuring hand on Tom’s arm.  “You’ve come this far,” he murmured.  “Don’t back out now.”

Swallowing down his fear, Hanson gave Booker a beseeching look.  “Come with me?” he asked in a low voice.

Booker returned a small smile and nodded.  The two men walked over to the nurse who was waiting impatiently for someone to answer her call.  “I’m Tom,” Hanson muttered softly.

The nurse cast her eye at Booker before turning her attention to Tom.  “Your boyfriend can wait here,” she instructed in an officious voice.  “Now follow me.”

As the nurse took off down the corridor, Tom remained standing where he was.  Suddenly realizing that Hanson was not beside her, she turned back around and strode purposely towards the two men.  “Is there a problem _Mister_ Hanson?” she asked irritably.

“Several,” Tom snapped, angry tears filling his eyes.  “Firstly, Booker is not my _boy_ friend so don’t you dare fucking judge me because of why I’m here.  Secondly, I want my _friend_ to come with me and if that’s not allowed, then you and everyone else in this fucking hospital can go to hell!”

Sensing the distress in Tom’s voice, the nurse immediately changed her demeanor.  “I apologize Mr. Hanson,” she replied in a calm voice.  “It’s been a long shift.  Of course your friend can come if that’s what you want.”

“It is,” Tom replied quietly.

They walked down the corridor, eventually stopping outside of a treatment room.  The nurse motioned for Tom to enter.  “Please take off all your clothing and put on the gown.  Doctor Gillett will be in shortly.”  Turning to Dennis, she nodded towards a chair in the waiting area outside the room.  “You can wait for Mr. Hanson here.”

Without pausing, the nurse turned and walked quickly back down the long corridor.  Booker sighed and gave Tom a comforting smile.  “I’ll be right outside, okay?”

Tom nodded and he entered the room and closed the door.  Dennis sat down on a chair and picked up a discarded magazine.  Flicking through the pages, he could smell the faint scent of disinfectant and his stomach churned.  Twenty minutes passed and Booker was starting to feel edgy when a doctor suddenly appeared accompanied by a young female nurse.  Neither acknowledged him as they entered the treatment room and closed the door.

Another twenty minutes passed and then the door opened and the nurse stepped outside.  “Are you Mr. Hanson’s friend?” she inquired softly.

Booker stood up, his dark eyes flickering with fear.  “Is Tom okay?” he asked in a shaky voice.

The nurse closed the door and smiled reassuringly.  “He’s fine.  We’re just having a little trouble with the rape kit and the internal exam.  He’s… well, he’s refusing to let the doctor touch him.  It’s not uncommon with rape cases, especially with men.  So I thought, maybe he’d feel more comfortable if you were in the room.”

Booker chewed at his bottom lip and thought about what the nurse had just said.  He was not sure Hanson would feel more comfortable with him in the room but there was only one way to find out.  Standing up, he gave the nurse a small smile.  “Let me talk to him.”

The woman opened the door and indicated for Booker to enter.  Dennis immediately saw Tom standing against the wall, his arms wrapped protectively around his slender body.  Sadness filled Booker’s heart, Tom looked so young and vulnerable dressed only in a white hospital gown.  Stepping forward, he placed both hands on Hanson’s shoulders.  “Hey Tommy,” he murmured.  “What’s going on?”

Tom glanced at the doctor before looking back at Booker.  “I don’t want to be touched _down there_ ,” he whispered, his beautiful dark eyes filling with tears.  

Placing his palm against Tom’s cheek, Booker’s face softened.  “I understand that Hanson but you _really_ need to be examined.  The doctor won’t hurt you and I’ll stay here with you, if that’ll make it easier.”

Hanson’s finger rubbed furiously at his upper lip as his gaze darted nervously from Booker to the doctor and back again.  After several minutes, he gave an almost unperceivable nod of his head and climbing onto the hospital bed he lay down on his side.

Pulling up a chair, Booker sat down next to the gurney and took Tom’s hand in both of his.  “Just keep looking at me,” he instructed softly.  “It’ll be over before you know it.”

“When you’re ready Mr. Hanson, please pull your knees up to your chest,” the doctor instructed.  

Tom hesitated for a moment before doing as the doctor asked.  Biting down on his lower lip, his eyes filled with tears of shame as the doctor swabbed him internally.  Once the examination for evidence was over, the doctor inserted his finger and performed a physical exam.  Tom screwed his eyes closed, unable to continue to meet Booker’s sympathetic gaze.  Hot tears leaked from his eyes but he remained silent, unwilling to break down completely.

The doctor withdrew his finger and pulled off his rubber glove.  “You may get dressed now Mr. Hanson,” he advised in a matter-of-fact voice.  “Internally, everything is fine.  The STD and HIV results will be sent to your GP and the results of the rape kit will be sent to—”

“Me,” Booker interrupted.  “Care of the Jump Street Program.”

“I’m sorry,” the doctor replied in a dismissive voice.  “But that’s impossible.  We send all results through to—“

Standing up abruptly, Booker pulled out his badge and flashed it at the doctor.  “Listen Doc, I don’t give a _fuck_ what you normally do.  This time you’re sending the results to _me_.  So hand me your clipboard and I’ll write down the details.”

Dennis’ glowering expression had the desired effect and the Doctor passed his notes to the angry officer.  Booker wrote down his details and tossed the paperwork onto the chair.  Turning back to Tom, he laid a gentle hand on the bewildered man’s shoulder.  “C’mon Hanson, get dressed so we can get out of here.”

This time, Tom did not hesitate.  Sitting up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up.  He quickly put on his boxers and jeans before discarding the gown.  Pulling his t-shirt over his head, he put on his socks and boots and picking up his jacket, he walked towards the door.  “Let’s go,” he said hurriedly and without waiting for Booker, he strode from the room.

**

When the two officers arrived back at Hanson’s apartment, Tom immediately headed into the bathroom and closed the door.  Several moments later, Booker heard the sound of running water as Tom turned on the shower.  Running a hand through his hair, Dennis looked at the closed bathroom door.  Now that a doctor had examined Tom, he needed to stand firm and get Hanson some help.  This was the moment he had been dreading, the moment when Tom would either understand that he was doing it because he cared about him or hate him forever for betraying his trust.

Picking up the telephone, he dialed his superior’s number.  The phone rang for several seconds before Captain Fuller’s voice shouted down the line.  “Fuller!” 

Booker hesitated for a moment before speaking.  “Hey Coach, it’s Booker.”

“If you’re ringing to say you need more time off, don’t bother,” Adam barked.  “I don’t care if you’re missing a limb you _will_ report for duty first thing Thursday morning, understood?”

Glancing nervously at the bathroom door, Booker lowered his voice.  “It’s not that Cap’n, I um, I need to talk to you in private about something.  Can we meet up?”

Captain Fuller was not a patient man and he slammed his hand down on his desk.  “For God’s sake Booker, if you’ve got something to say, just say it!” he yelled.  “I don’t have time to play twenty questions.”

Sighing in frustration, Booker rubbed at his tired eyes.  “Okay, it’s um… it’s about Hanson.”

Dennis could feel his superior’s annoyance radiating through the telephone.  He started to explain but Fuller cut him off.  “Booker, it’s about time you and Hanson put your petty differences behind you and started acting like police officers!  I’m tired of the accusations and constant arguing.  You’re grown men, behave like it!”

“No Coach, you don’t understand,” Booker replied.  “I’m worried about Hanson.  Something happened to him that I think you should—” Dennis’ stopped mid sentence when he saw Tom standing in the bathroom doorway, a look of horror on his pale face.

“BOOKER?  BOOKER ARE YOU THERE?” Fuller yelled down the phone.

Dennis ignored his Captain’s pleas and slowly hung up the phone.  “Tom,” he whispered, his dark eyes imploring with Hanson to understand.  “I—”

“YOU BASTARD!” Tom screamed and running across the room, he launched himself at Booker, slamming him against the kitchen wall.  His hands grasped at Dennis’ clothing and his face contorted in anger.  “Is this just a game to you?” he screamed in Booker’s face.  “Did you come here pretending to be my friend so you could see the look on my face when you betrayed me?  YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!  I FUCKING HATE YOU!  GET OUT!  GET OUT OF MY APARTMENT _NOW!_ ”

Booker was much stronger than Tom and he easily grabbed hold of his attacker’s wrists, preventing him from causing any more harm.  Hanson struggled to break free but Dennis held him firm.  “Calm down!” he yelled.  “I don’t want to hurt you Tom but—“

Without warning, Hanson threw back his head and head butted Booker.  Dennis’ head slammed against the wall and he lost his grip on Tom’s wrists.  Seizing his opportunity, Hanson smashed his fist into Booker’s mouth.  Blood flew from Dennis’ lips and he slid down the wall and onto the floor.  Gazing up at Tom’s furious face, it took all of his willpower not to jump to his feet and beat his attacker to a bloody pulp.  Instead, he slowly stood up and gave Tom an angry look.  “I _had_ to tell Fuller,” he muttered as he gingerly ran his fingers over his jaw.  “And if our positions were reversed, you’d have done the same thing.”

“GO TO HELL!” Tom shouted.  “You’re nothing but a narc and I want nothing to do with you!  Now get out!”

Booker walked over to the coffee table and picked up his car keys.  When he reached the door, he turned back and faced Hanson.  “I’m sorry,” he apologized in a quiet voice.

“Fuck you!” Tom spat, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Turning the doorknob, Dennis gave Hanson a sad smile.  “I wasn’t pretending to be your friend,” he murmured and opening the door, he walked out of the apartment.

**

Black leather gloved hands inserted a pick and tension wrench into the lock of Hanson’s apartment door and easily clicked each pin into the set position.  Expertly using the wrench, the intruder turned the cylinder and the lock popped open.  Shoving the tools into his jacket pocket, _the man_ slowly pushed open the door.  Peering into the darkened apartment, he stepped forward and softly closed the door behind him.  

Taking in his surroundings, _the man_ moved forward towards the partially open bedroom door.  Placing his hand on the wooden panel, he gently pushed it open.  Pale moonlight filtered in through the partially curtained window, illuminating Tom’s sleeping face.  Moving further into the room, _the man_ pulled out a bottle of chloroform and a neatly pressed handkerchief.  Carefully opening the bottle, he poured a measured amount of the liquid onto the checkered cloth.  Screwing the cap back on the bottle, _the man_ placed the chloroform back in his coat pocket and stepped forward.  In one swift movement, he placed the handkerchief over Tom’s nose and mouth and pressed down.

Tom’s eyes shot open and he instantly fought against the strong hand that was smothering him.  The sickly sweet smell of the chloroform assaulted his nostrils and he started to gag.  He attempted to hold his breath, but after a minute of struggling, he gasped for air and he quickly inhaled enough of the compound for it to take effect.  His body went numb and his vision and hearing began to fail.  Grabbing hold of his assailant’s wrist, he tried one last time to break free before he slipped into unconsciousness.

 _The man_ knew he had to act fast.  Gathering Tom in his arms, he kept the handkerchief over his face so that Hanson continued to breathe in the incapacitating vapors.  Sticking his head furtively out of the apartment, he stepped into the hallway and pulled the door closed.  _The man_ was surprisingly strong for his age and he had no problem carrying a lifeless Hanson down several flights of stairs and out into the car park.  Hurrying over to his car, _the man_ lay Tom on the ground and quickly unlocked the trunk.  Removing the handkerchief from Tom’s face, _the man_ lifted the unconscious body and placed Hanson carefully into the carpeted interior. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pair of handcuffs and secured them around Hanson’s wrists. Staring down at his captive’s sleeping face, the man smiled sadistically and slammed down the lid of the trunk.


	8. The Nightmare Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Black leather gloved hands inserted a pick and tension wrench into the lock of Hanson’s apartment door and easily clicked each pin into the set position.  Expertly using the wrench, the intruder turned the cylinder and the lock popped open.  Shoving the tools into his jacket pocket, the man slowly pushed open the door.  Peering into the darkened apartment, he stepped forward and softly closed the door behind him._
> 
> _Taking in his surroundings, the man moved forward towards the partially open bedroom door.  Placing his hand on the wooden panel, he gently pushed it open.  Pale moonlight filtered in through the partially curtained window, illuminating Tom’s sleeping face.  Moving further into the room, the man pulled out a bottle of chloroform and a neatly pressed handkerchief.  Carefully opening the bottle, he poured a measured amount of the liquid onto the checkered cloth.  Screwing the cap back on the bottle, the man placed the chloroform back in his coat pocket and stepped forward.  In one swift movement, he placed the handkerchief over Tom’s nose and mouth and pressed down._
> 
> _Tom’s eyes shot open and he instantly fought against the strong hand that was smothering him.  The sickly sweet smell of the chloroform assaulted his nostrils and he started to gag.  He attempted to hold his breath, but after a minute of struggling, he gasped for air and he quickly inhaled enough of the compound for it to take effect.  His body went numb and his vision and hearing began to fail.  Grabbing hold of his assailant’s wrist, he tried one last time to break free before he slipped into unconsciousness._
> 
> _The man knew he had to act fast.  Gathering Tom in his arms, he kept the handkerchief over his face so that Hanson continued to breathe in the incapacitating vapors.  Sticking his head furtively out of the apartment, he stepped into the hallway and pulled the door closed.  The man was surprisingly strong for his age and he had no problem carrying a lifeless Hanson down several flights of stairs and out into the car park.  Hurrying over to his car, the man lay Tom on the ground and quickly unlocked the trunk.  Removing the handkerchief from Tom’s face, the man lifted the unconscious body and placed Hanson carefully into the carpeted interior.  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pair of handcuffs and secured them around Hanson’s wrists.  Staring down at his captive’s sleeping face, the man smiled sadistically and slammed down the lid of the trunk._

**The Nightmare Begins**  

The motion of the car woke Tom from his chloroform-induced slumber.  Disorientated and confused, he sat up and immediately cried out in agony as he hit the lid of the trunk.  Grasping his head in his hands, he collapsed back onto the carpeted floor and moaned loudly.  Within seconds, panic set in when he realized he wore handcuffs and he instantly forgot the searing pain in his head.  Using his hands as best he could, he explored his surroundings.  It took several moments before his befuddled mind comprehended where he was.  An immediate feeling of claustrophobia overwhelmed him and he started to hyperventilate.  As the feeling increased, so did his terror and he gasped for air whilst frantically trying to find the trunk release.  Unable to find the release lever, he began to bang his fists against the lid.  “HELP!” he screamed, his voice rising hysterically.  “LET ME OUT!  _LET ME OUT!_ ”

As if on cue, the rocking motion ceased, signaling that the car was no longer moving.  Tears of fear and exhaustion streamed from Tom’s dark eyes and he tried desperately to slow his breathing and get himself back in control.  He needed to be alert and on his game if he was to have any chance of fighting his kidnapper and escaping.  Although he had no memory of the assault, he quickly concluded that it was _the man_ who had broken into his apartment and abducted him.  His body began to shake at the thought of what he was about to face and he choked back a sob.  If _the man_ was his abductor then he knew he was in for a world of pain.

Several minutes passed before Hanson heard a soft _click_ and the lid of the trunk slowly opened.  The first thing he saw was the muzzle of a Berretta M9 pointing at him and he instinctively raised his hands.  Once the trunk had fully opened, he saw _the man_ staring coldly down at him.  “Out,” his abductor instructed in a low voice and he waved the handgun menacingly in Tom’s face.  “And don’t think about trying to escape or I’ll shoot you like a rabid dog.”

Still feeling dizzy and nauseous from the effects of the chloroform, Hanson managed to scramble from the trunk.  He fell heavily to the cement floor and he let out a soft cry of pain.  The cold steel muzzle of the gun pressed against the back of his head and he cried out again as his forehead was slammed against the concrete.  “Keep your head down,” _the man_ barked.  Tom did as _the man_ instructed but out of the corner of his eye, he saw a second man approach.  Without warning, this man placed a hessian bag over his head, obstructing his view.  He automatically began to struggle but he immediately stopped when _the man_ pistol-whipped him on the back of the head.  Vomit rose in his throat and he fought to swallow it down.  With a yelp of pain, _the man_ hauled him to his feet, where he wobbled unsteadily as his head began to spin and the rising feeling of nausea engulfed him.  Before he could gain his balance, the two men dragged him across the concrete floor.  He heard the screeching sound of a heavy metal door opening on rusty hinges before the men pushed him roughly to the ground.  Too afraid to move, he knelt with his head bowed and waited.  A moment later, someone removed his handcuffs and then the door slammed closed with a bang.

Hanson waited several minutes before removing the bag from his head.  He gingerly touched the wound on the back of his head where the gun had connected and his fingers came away wet with blood.  It took several minutes more for his eyes to begin to adjust to the darkness that surrounded him.  When he felt ready, he slowly staggered to his feet and leaned against the wall as another wave of queasiness washed over him.  Just when he thought he had the sickness under control, his stomach lurched and he doubled over and vomited violently.  His body trembled as he continued to heave uncontrollably.  Finally, the spasms eased and straightening up, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  The smell of the vomit on the floor threatened to send him into another paroxysm of sickness and using the wall for support, he shuffled across the room.  When he reached the corner of the wall, he kept his hand on the plaster and began to walk, counting his steps until he reached the next corner.  He continued his journey until he had navigated the whole room.  On the final wall, he stopped abruptly as his fingers connected with something cold.  Fear gripped at his heart when he realized that he was touching a heavy chain.  Moving forward, he discovered a second chain also attached to the wall.  Running it through his fingers, he found a large manacle at the end and he once again started to panic.  Letting go of the restraint, he nervously ran his fingers over his top lip.  He now had no doubt in his mind that _the man_ intended to keep him prisoner in the room and that in all likelihood, he would once again be the victim of rape.

Before he could let the panic take complete control of his mind, Tom slowly continued to walk around the room.  When he came upon the fourth corner, he sat down on the hard concrete floor and mentally tried to calculate the size of the cell.  Eventually, he concluded that the room was approximately twenty feet square.  Squinting into the darkness, he noticed two dark shapes in the middle of the room and his heart started to pound in his chest.  He slowly clambered to his feet and quickly gathering up his courage, he made his way forward.  He sighed in relief when he realized that one of the forms was a table and the other a small bed.  Moving over to the bed, he lay down and rested his aching head against the flat pillow.  Closing his eyes, he started to sob at the hopelessness of the situation.  He was trapped, a prisoner of a deranged lunatic and unless he could somehow disarm _the man_ , he had no hope of escape.

**

_Wednesday morning_

No longer needing his fake excuse not to go into work, Booker arrived at the Chapel before the other officers.  He needed time to get his thoughts in order before he approached Adam Fuller and imparted the information about Hanson.  Sitting down at his desk, he leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk.  He had spent a restless night, tossing and turning in bed whilst Tom’s angry screams echoed in his head.  He now realized that he had handled the situation badly.  Once again, his bullheadedness had caused him to act impulsively instead of thinking things through.  He should have waited before contacting Fuller instead of doing it within earshot of Hanson.  It had been his intention to protect Tom but instead he had caused him more heartache and pain.  Now Booker did not know how to proceed.  He knew his Captain would demand an explanation for the cryptic phone call but he wondered if he should check on Hanson first, even though he was sure that his colleague would refuse to talk to him.

Fate intervened when Adam Fuller entered the room.  Seeing Dennis sitting at his desk, the senior officer narrowed his eyes.  “You’ve got some explaining to do Booker,” he snapped irritably.  “Get in my office _now!_ ”

Sighing heavily, Dennis dropped his feet to the floor and pushing back his chair, he stood up and followed his Captain.  Fuller closed his office door and motioned for Booker to take a seat.  “I left you several messages last night,” the middle-aged man growled.  “When I contact you I expect a reply, is that understood?”

“Yes Coach,” Booker muttered sulkily.  “But there was a reason—”

“I DON’T GIVE A FLYING _FUCK_ WHAT YOUR REASONS ARE!” Fuller exploded, his hands slamming down on his desk in anger.  “WHEN I LEAVE YOU A MESSAGE YOU’D BETTER CALL ME BACK OR I’LL HAVE YOUR BALLS FOR BREAKFAST!”

“Okay,” Dennis replied sullenly.  “I get it.  But Cap’n, there really was a reason I didn’t call back… I didn’t know if I was doing the right thing by contacting you.  Hanson and I had a fight and—”

"Jesus Booker!” Adam exclaimed loudly.  “These childish fights between you and Hanson have to stop!  I’m sick and tired of the whining and—”

“NO!” Booker yelled as he jumped to his feet in frustration.  “You don’t fucking understand!  This isn’t about me!  Tom was _raped!_   He was fucking _RAPED!_ ”

Fuller’s eyes widened in shock.  “Are you sure?” he whispered.  “Booker, this is a very serious allegation.”

Dennis paced around the room in agitation.  “Of course I’m sure,” he shot back angrily.  “Do you honestly think I’d make something like this up?”

“No,” Adam muttered and he rubbed at his face with his hands.  “Jesus.”

Hearing the pain in his Captain’s voice, Booker immediately calmed down.  Sitting back in his chair, he leaned forward.  “It was the man in the black BMW,” he revealed in a soft voice.  “I guessed something had happened and I confronted Hanson about it but he denied it.  Eventually he broke down when I went to see him.  I was concerned about his mental state, he had his gun and…”  Dennis’ voice drifted off and he stared at the floor as the memory of Tom’s distressed face filled his mind.

Fuller’s voice brought him back to the present.  “Do you think Hanson was suicidal?”

Booker lifted his head and ran his fingers nervously through his hair.  “I don’t know.  He may have been holding the gun for protection but I couldn’t take the chance.  I stayed with him Monday night and yesterday I took him to the hospital.  When we came home he took a shower and stupidly I rang you and he overheard our conversation.  He went crazy and attacked me before telling me to leave.”  

Dennis' eyes filled with pain and his voice dropped to a whisper.  “I shouldn’t have left him, what if he’s hurt himself?”

Fuller’s expression softened at the distress on the young officer’s face.  “I’m sure he’s okay Booker, Hanson’s tough,” he murmured, unable to offer any more words of comfort.  “But I think we need to speak to Penhall and then pay a visit to Tom, just to be on the safe side.”

Standing up, Booker gave his superior an imploring gaze.  “He will be okay, won’t he Coach?” he asked in a soft voice.

“I’m sure he will,” Fuller replied, but deep in his heart, he did not feel so certain.

**

Fuller took Doug into his office and quietly explained what had happened to Tom.  Penhall’s reaction was to punch his fist into the plastered wall and his knuckles split open with the force of the impact.  Refusing medical attention, Doug stormed out of his Captain’s office and strode purposely over to Booker’s desk.  Looking up, Dennis started to speak but Penhall grasped hold of the front of his t-shirt and forcefully pulled him out of his chair before slamming him violently against the filing cabinet.  “YOU STUPID SON-OF-A-BITCH!” he yelled.  “WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?”

Booker grabbed hold of Penhall’s wrists and yanked them away.  “Don’t you lay your fucking hands on me!” he spat.  “If you really were Hanson’s friend you would have noticed that something was wrong.”

Doug threw back his arm and punched Dennis in the face with all the strength he could muster.  Booker slid to the floor and slumped against the cabinet, his vision blurring from the impact of the attack.  Seeing the commotion, Fuller ran from his office and restrained Penhall before he could swing again.  “Penhall STOP!” he commanded.  “This isn’t helping Hanson.”

Using his desk for support, Booker slowly pulled himself to his feet.  Holding his jaw in his hand, he gave Doug a filthy look.  “Touch me again and you’ll know pain like you’ve never known before,” he threatened in a menacing voice.

Penhall glared back fearlessly.  “Yeah?  You and whose army?” he muttered, before adding, “You little prick.”

“Fuck you!” Booker shouted.  “At least I tried to help Hanson, all you cared about was going out drinking!”

Before Doug could reply, Fuller moved between the two angry men and held out his arms.  “ENOUGH!” he yelled.  “If you two can’t work together then I’ll send Ioki and Hoffs to check on Hanson.”

Taking a deep, calming breath, Penhall reined in his temper.  He was Tom’s best friend and he _wanted_ to be the one to speak to him and reassure him that everything would be all right.  Unclenching his balled up fists, he extended his hand towards Booker.  “Sorry,” he muttered, unable to meet his fellow officer’s angry glare.  “You know me, always the hothead.”

Dennis hesitated for a moment before shaking Doug’s hand.  “Yeah well, I guess I can be pretty hotheaded too,” he replied in a low voice.

Satisfied that his two officers were no longer in danger of attacking each other, Fuller laid a hand on each of their shoulders.  “Go and see Tom,” he instructed quietly.  “Take as long as you need and when you think he’s ready, bring him here to see me.”

The two men nodded their heads silently and left the building.


	9. Helpless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Doug threw back his arm and punched Dennis in the face with all the strength he could muster.  Booker slid to the floor and slumped against the cabinet, his vision blurring from the impact of the attack.  Seeing the commotion, Fuller ran from his office and restrained Penhall before he could swing again.  “Penhall STOP!” he commanded.  “This isn’t helping Hanson.”_
> 
> _Using his desk for support, Booker slowly pulled himself to his feet.  Holding his jaw in his hand, he gave Doug a filthy look.  “Touch me again and you’ll know pain like you’ve never known before,” he threatened in a menacing voice._
> 
> _Penhall glared back fearlessly.  “Yeah?  You and whose army?” he muttered, before adding, “You little prick.”_
> 
> _“Fuck you!” Booker shouted.  “At least I tried to help Hanson, all you cared about was going out drinking!”_
> 
> _Before Doug could reply, Fuller moved between the two angry men and held out his arms.  “ENOUGH!” he yelled.  “If you two can’t work together then I’ll send Ioki and Hoffs to check on Hanson.”_
> 
> _Taking a deep, calming breath, Penhall reined in his temper.  He was Tom’s best friend and he wanted to be the one to speak to him and reassure him that everything would be all right.  Unclenching his balled up fists, he extended his hand towards Booker.  “Sorry,” he muttered, unable to meet his fellow officer’s angry glare.  “You know me, always the hothead.”_
> 
> _Dennis hesitated for a moment before shaking Doug’s hand.  “Yeah well, I guess I can be pretty hotheaded too,” he replied in a low voice._
> 
> _Satisfied that his two officers were no longer in danger of attacking each other, Fuller laid a hand on each of their shoulders.  “Go and see Tom,” he instructed quietly.  “Take as long as you need and when you think he’s ready, bring him here to see me.”_
> 
> _The two men nodded their heads silently and left the building._

**Helpless**  

Booker and Penhall climbed the stairs to Tom’s apartment in silence.  Neither had spoken a word since leaving the Chapel, both men feeling too angry to voice their shared apprehension at facing Hanson.  As they exited the stairwell and walked down the well-lit hallway, Penhall suddenly placed a hand on Booker’s arm, forcing him to stop.

Dennis immediately pulled his arm away from Doug’s hold.  “What?” he asked irritably.

Penhall huffed in annoyance and clenching his fists, he mustered all his strength to prevent himself from punching Booker in the face again.  “I think I should be the one to talk to Tom,” he replied in firm voice.  “He’s my best friend and I think he’ll respond better to me.”

Booker’s own fists curled into balls as he tried to contain his jealousy.  It was true; Hanson and Penhall had a special relationship, a camaraderie that would cause many to feel envious.  Although Dennis knew that what Doug was saying made perfect sense, he could not relinquish Tom’s welfare completely.  He was stubborn and he wanted to be involved in helping Hanson through the most difficult time in his life.  After all, he was the only one who had recognized that something was wrong with Tom and therefore, he felt justified in being involved in his recovery.  An uncomfortable thought popped into his mind, the thought that his real agenda was to get close to Hanson, to have him in his life in any way possible.  But he mentally berated himself.  That was not the case at all, he was genuinely worried about Tom and he believed that the more people who showed the young officer that they cared, the easier it would be for him to recover from the horrors that _the man_ had inflicted upon him.

“You can’t keep him from me,” Booker snapped back and when he saw the surprised expression on Penhall’s face, he instantly regretted his words.

Grabbing Dennis by the shoulders, Doug slammed him against the wall.  Glaring deep into the dark-haired officer’s eyes, he could not keep the disgust out of his voice.  “Is _that_ what this is about?  Are you trying to get close to Tommy because you’re _in love_ with him?”

Shoving his hands against Penhall’s chest, Booker extricated himself from his assailant’s hold and returned the angry glare.  “So what if I am?  That’s none of your damn business and for your information, the reason I’m trying to help Hanson is because I’m concerned about him, not because I want to fuck him you sanctimonious prick.”

“I knew there was something off about you,” Penhall replied in a low voice.

Throwing back his head, Booker laughed a loud, hollow laugh.  “A little homophobic are we Doug?” he sneered.  “Is the thought of me lusting after your precious Tommy too much for you to handle?”

Penhall had the grace to blush a deep scarlet.  “No Booker, I’m not homophobic.  But I know you, you don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself and there’s no way in hell I’m letting you prey upon Tom.”

Tilting his head on one side, Dennis narrowed his eyes and gave Doug a quizzical look.  “ _Prey_ upon him?” he queried in a quiet voice.  “What kind of a person do you think I am?”

“A self centered one,” Penhall replied without pause.  “You don’t care about anyone but yourself and you don’t give a shit who you hurt along the way.  But I’ll tell you this, I’ll be damned if I’ll stand by and let you hurt Tom, especially now.  I don’t like you Booker and Tom doesn’t like you either, so I think it would be best if you backed off and let me handle it.”

Booker felt hot tears stinging his eyes and he quickly lowered his gaze.  He was well aware that he did not share a friendship with his fellow Jump Street officers but to hear the words that they actually disliked him was extremely painful.  

Turning away, he walked slowly towards Tom’s door.  “Fine,” he murmured.  “Whatever you want.”

**

The sound of the heavy metal door squealing on its hinges pulled Tom from a fitful sleep.  Clambering from the bed, he squinted his eyes against the bright light that shone from the open doorway.  In the distance, he heard the loud toll of a clock striking the half hour.  Deep in the recesses of his memory, he recalled hearing the exact same chime but his mind was too frightened to be able to remember where he associated the sound.  Stepping backwards, he peered into the bright light and he jumped slightly as the door creaked closed.  However, the light remained, shining brightly into his narrowed eyes.

“Face the wall,” _the man’s_ voice commanded in a surly tone.

A surge of defiance flooded through Tom’s body.  “And what if I don’t?” he asked, the bravado in his voice masking the terror he actually felt.

The bright light suddenly vanished, plunging the room into darkness.  The hairs on the back of Tom’s neck stood up as he heard the scurrying of footsteps.  He stumbled blindly through the inky blackness but he collided with the table.  As he turned away, fifty thousand volts of electricity surged through his body and screaming in pain, he fell to the floor.  The brilliant light once again flooded the room, revealing _the man_ and his companion, a young man who was holding a pair of night vision goggles in one hand and a stun gun in the other.  

_The man_ grinned sadistically and moving away from the large, portable spotlight, he walked over to where Tom lay gasping on the floor.  He stood for a moment before stomping his foot down on Hanson’s chest, eliciting a soft _oomph_ from the prone officer’s lips.  “Now Officer Hanson, are you going to be a good boy or do I need to instruct Edward to zap you again?” _the man_ asked in a soft voice.

“Please don’t hurt me,” Tom choked, his arms wrapping tightly around his body.  “ _Please!_ ”

 _The man_ ignored Hanson’s pleas and a deep frown furrowed his brow.  “I want an answer Officer Hanson,” he growled.  “Are you going to be a good boy or not?”

A loud sob escaped Tom’s dry lips and snot bubbled from his nose.  “ _YES!_ ” he cried in a voice full of anguish and humiliation.  “Just don’t hurt me!  Please don’t hurt me!”

Squatting down, _the man_ pulled out a pair of handcuffs and rolling Tom onto his side, he quickly restrained his wrists behind his back.  Pulling out his gun, he placed it against Hanson’s temple and the officer immediately screwed his eyes shut, sure that he was about to meet his maker.  _The man_ laughed cruelly and taking out his handkerchief, he wiped the mucus from Hanson’s face.  Keeping the gun pressed against his captive’s temple, _the man_ reached out and caressed Tom’s cock through the thin cotton of his boxers.  Hanson instinctively drew his knees to his chest and his reward was a stinging blow to the head with the butt of the gun.  

Reeling from the vicious strike, Tom’s vision blurred and he let out a loud groan of pain but his throbbing head was quickly forgotten when he felt a callused hand remove his boxers.  Struggling to pull away, he cried out as _the man_ yanked his tethered arms viciously upwards, the force of the action painfully straining his shoulder joints.  “STOP!” he yelled, fresh tears streaming down his face.  “OH GOD STOP!”

 _The man_ released the pressure of his hold and allowed Tom’s arms to drop.  Standing up, he grasped hold of the linked chain of the handcuffs.  “Stand up,” he instructed in a loud voice.

Not wanting to experience any more pain, Hanson did as _the man_ asked.  Struggling to his feet, his eyes squinted closed when the he again felt the cold steel of the gun pressed against his temple.  _The man_ pushed him forward until he was standing at the end of the narrow wooden dining table.  “Bend over,” _the man_ commanded, his voice sounding husky with arousal.

Fear gripped at Hanson’s heart.  He knew what was coming and his mind screamed at him to break free and run.  But he felt paralyzed, his limbs unwilling to do as his brain instructed.  When he did not move, _the man_ slammed him forcefully against the table and he found his head and torso resting on the chipped, wooden slab. “Tie his legs Edward,” _the man_ instructed his young lackey.  

Edward licked his lips and moving forward, he squatted down next to the table.  Pulling out two heavy pieces of rope, he maneuvered Tom’s left ankle so it rested next to the table leg and he quickly bound it to the wooden support despite Hanson’s efforts to prevent him from doing so.  He repeated the process with Tom’s right ankle before standing up and gazing adoringly at his middle-aged companion.  “May I secure his hands Mr. Bentley?” he asked excitedly.

 _The man_ smiled proudly at his protégé.  “Yes Edward, you may,” he replied in a soft voice.

Taking several pairs of handcuffs out of his coat pocket, Edward used a key to release the left cuff from Tom’s wrist.  Realizing that this was his last chance to escape, Hanson fought to break free but he instantly stopped when the gun pressed painfully against his temple.  Tears spilled from his eyes and he watched in horror as Edward connected the handcuffs together to form a long chain.  Holding onto the linked cuffs, Edward crawled under the table.  _The man_ moved to the side of the table and pulled Tom’s right arm to the side.  Edward clicked the handcuff in place and scrambled out from beneath the bench, smiling proudly.  Hanson now found himself completely immobilized.  His torso and head lay flat against the chipped surface of the table, his legs were forced open, bound to the supports by the heavy ropes and his arms tightly hugged the narrow wooden bench top.  He was completely helpless and at the mercy of his abuser.

“Get the camera Edward,” _the man_ murmured breathlessly.  “I want to send a little present to Officer Hanson’s esteemed colleagues.”

Edward scurried away but quickly returned with a camcorder.  Picking up the spotlight with his other hand, he lugged it across the room and placed it next to the table.  The bright light shone down on Tom, illuminating his bound, semi-naked body.  Hanson could hear _the man_ behind him and his heart began to hammer in his chest.  He yelped when he felt _the man’s_ erect cock press against him and knowing that he was about to be raped for a second time by the monster behind him, he started to sob.  “Stop… stop… stop… stop… stop…” he begged, screwing his eyes closed against what was about to happen.  But his request went unanswered.  Instead, rough hands turned his head towards the camera and he screamed from the pain and humiliation when _the man_ thrust his erect cock into his unprepared anus.  Loud grunting assaulted his ears as _the man_ slammed painfully in an out of his body.  Opening his eyes, he could see Edward laughing with delight as he captured the assault on film.   Knowing that he needed to do something to aid his escape, his police training clicked into gear and a plan formed in his mind.  Trying desperately to ignore the searing pain in his backside, he gazed directly at the camera and began to silently mouth four words over and over again in a type of mantra, making sure that he enunciated each word clearly.  “Ed-ward…  Mist-er Bent-ley…  clock…  Ed-ward…  Mist-er Bent-ley…  clock…  Ed-ward…  Mist-er Bent-ley…  clock…”  

Those four words were the only clues that Hanson could think to relay to whoever would be the unfortunate recipient of the tape of his rape.  All he could hope was that someone would be astute enough to decipher what he was saying.


	10. Beauty and the Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: “Get the camera Edward,” the man murmured breathlessly.  “I want to send a little present to Officer Hanson’s esteemed colleagues.”_
> 
> _Edward scurried away but quickly returned with a camcorder.  Picking up the spotlight with his other hand, he lugged it across the room and placed it next to the table.  The bright light shone down on Tom, illuminating his bound, semi-naked body.  Hanson could hear the man behind him and his heart began to hammer in his chest.  He yelped when he felt the man’s erect cock press against him and knowing that he was about to be raped for a second time by the monster behind him, he started to sob.  “Stop… stop… stop… stop… stop…” he begged, screwing his eyes closed against what was about to happen.  But his request went unanswered.  Instead, rough hands turned his head towards the camera and he screamed from the pain and humiliation when the man thrust his erect cock into his unprepared anus.  Loud grunting assaulted his ears as the man slammed painfully in an out of his body.  Opening his eyes, he could see Edward laughing with delight as he captured the assault on film.   Knowing that he needed to do something to aid his escape, his police training clicked into gear and a plan formed in his mind.  Trying desperately to ignore the searing pain in his backside, he gazed directly at the camera and began to silently mouth four words over and over again in a type of mantra, making sure that he enunciated each word clearly.  “Ed-ward…  Mist-er Bent-ley…  clock…  Ed-ward…  Mist-er Bent-ley…  clock…  Ed-ward…  Mist-er Bent-ley…  clock…”_
> 
> _Those four words were the only clues that Hanson could think to relay to whoever would be the unfortunate recipient of the tape of his rape.  All he could hope was that someone would be astute enough to decipher what he was saying._

**Beauty and the Beast**  

The shock at finding Tom’s apartment empty and showing obvious signs of a struggle left both Booker and Penhall with feelings of immense guilt and a sickening fear for their colleague’s safety.   They had spent so much time arguing and procrastinating instead of checking on Hanson’s welfare and the result was that the young officer was now missing.  Neither man spoke on the way back to the Chapel; Penhall drove with a complete lack of abandon, desperate to relay the news to their Captain so they could start an official search for Tom whilst Booker sat in the passenger seat staring vacantly out of the window, his mind in turmoil.

Penhall turned the car at breakneck speed into his parking space and slammed on the brakes, only just preventing the vehicle from hitting the side of the old church.  Jumping out of the car, he did not wait for Booker and he took the steps two at a time, his hulking frame surprisingly agile.  Dennis climbed slowly from the vehicle, the pain in his heart almost too agonizing to bear.  As he ascended the stairs, he could hear Fuller’s voice echoing loudly down at him.  “Taken!  What do you mean taken?!  Are you telling me that the unknown man has kidnapped Hanson?!”

The walls muffled Penhall’s reply but by Fuller’s response, Dennis could tell that it was not what their Captain wanted to hear.  “This is Booker’s fault!  If he’d come to me the moment he knew about Hanson’s attack this never would have happened!  Now where the hell is the son-of-a-bitch?”

Dennis walked into the room, well aware that all eyes were upon him.  “Here Cap’n,” he muttered, his eyes unable to meet his superior’s hard stare.

“I hope you’re pleased with yourself Booker,” Fuller seethed through clenched teeth.  “Your total disregard of protocol has put an officer’s life at risk.”

“I know,” Booker murmured softly, tears of remorse filling his dark eyes.  “I’m sorry.”

Seeing the total look of devastation on Booker’s face, Penhall stepped forward and attempted to shield the officer from another verbal attack.  Although he was not fond of the arrogant young man, Penhall had a huge heart and he could see that Booker was close to breaking down.  “What about the BMW?” he asked Fuller.  “Can’t we trace the guy through its tags?”

All the anger seemed to flow from Fuller’s body and his shoulders slumped in a measure of defeat.  “The car was rented with a stolen credit card,” he replied.  “It’s a dead end.”

Unaware of the tension in the room, Sal ‘Blowfish’ Banducci, the Chapel’s maintenance engineer sauntered in carrying a small package.  Seeing the strained look on Fuller’s face, he stopped smiling and looked to Penhall for guidance.  “Hey fellas, what’s up?”

Doug managed a weak smile in return.  “Nothing you can help with Sal,” he replied sadly.  Spying the parcel, he nodded his head at the package.  “What’s that?”

Sal shrugged his shoulders.  “Beats me,” he answered.  “It was left outside.  It’s addressed to the officer in charge.”

Fuller stepped forward and took the brown-paper packet from Sal’s hand.  Without a word, he walked into his office and closed the door.  Booker and Penhall exchanged puzzled glances before sitting down at their desks.  Moments later, a loud distressed cry echoed from the Captain’s office.  Running across the room, both men crashed into the room and stopped dead in their tracks at the horrified expression on their superior’s face.  “Coach what is it?” Penhall exclaimed, his blood running cold with fear.

Booker followed his Captain’s dismayed gaze to a small television sitting on a shelf.  He let out a loud gasp of shock when he saw Hanson’s face on the screen.  The camera panned back and Dennis choked back a sob and covered his mouth with his hand.  Tom was strapped to a table and a middle-aged man was violently raping him.  

When Penhall eyes finally found the TV screen he let out an angry roar and rushing forward he slammed his fist into the monitor.  Sparks flew from the box and the screen went blank.

Hearing the disturbance, Harry and Judy rushed into the room and were shocked to see Fuller with tears streaming down his face.  Booker stood with his face in his hands and Penhall was crouched on the floor, crying hysterically.  

“What happened?” Judy asked in a frightened voice.  “Oh my God, what’s going on?”

Fuller turned his tear stained face towards the startled officers.  “Close the door,” he instructed in a shaky voice.  “I want this discussion to remain confidential until further notice, is that understood?”

Ioki and Hoffs nodded their heads in bewilderment but Booker and Penhall remained too distraught to acknowledge their Captain’s request. 

**

Neither Harry nor Judy could face watching the video and both left Fuller’s office pale faced and shaky.  It took half an hour for Booker and Penhall to pull themselves together enough to talk about Tom’s abduction.   After a brief discussion, the three men decided to watch the offending tape in the privacy of Booker’s apartment.  

Arriving at his home, Booker motioned silently for Fuller and Penhall to take a seat.  Putting the tape in the VCR, he turned on the TV.  His stomach lurched when he heard Tom’s terrified scream but he forced himself to watch the movie, hoping against hope that there would be some clue to Hanson’s whereabouts.  When the tape turned to static, he rewound it and pressed play.  In a flash, Penhall was on his feet and shoving Dennis forcefully to one side, he ejected the video.  Shaking the tape furiously at Booker, he screamed into the startled officer’s face.  “WATCHING IT ONCE ISN’T ENOUGH FOR YOU?!  WHAT KIND OF A SICK PERVERT ARE YOU?”

Snatching the video from Doug’s hand, Booker held it up, his eyes blazing with anger.  “Didn’t you see it?!” he yelled.  “Tom was trying to tell us something you fucking idiot!”

Doug’s eyes narrowed in suspicion and he turned and faced Fuller who was uncharacteristically quiet.  “Did _you_ see anything Coach?” he asked in a low voice.

Fuller stood up and nodded towards Booker.  “Put the tape in again, show me what you mean.”

The three men crowded around the television and when Tom’s mouth started to move, Booker jabbed at the screen excitedly.  “THERE!” he yelled.  “Did you see it?  He’s saying the same thing over and over again.”

Penhall wiped at his mouth with his hand.  “Shit,” he muttered as he stared at the TV.  “You’re right.”

Booker rewound the tape back to where Tom started speaking.  The men leaned forward and stared at Tom’s lips, desperately trying to decipher the silent words.  They replayed the tape repeatedly but none of them could make any sense of Tom’s message.

Doug turned away and taking a seat on the couch, he buried his head in his hands.  “I can’t watch it again,” he murmured in a voice tinged with pain.  “I can’t bear the thought that he’s out there somewhere being rap—”  A loud sob cut off his sentence and his shoulders shook as he burst into a flood of tears.  Fuller stood motionless, unable to offer comfort to his young charge.  Without thinking, Booker sat down and pulled Penhall into a tight embrace.  “Shh,” he soothed softly, finding empathy for Doug that he did not know he possessed.  “We’ll find him.  I promise you, we’ll find him.”

Gently pulling away from Booker’s comforting hug, Penhall wiped at his tear stained face and gave a watery smile.  “Then we’d better rewind the tape,” he replied quietly.

**

Four hours passed and the three police officers sat staring mutely at the television screen.  They now had a list of potential words, all written down in Penhall’s untidy scrawl.  Running a hand over his tired eyes, Fuller stood up and ejected the video.  “That’s it fellas, we can’t waste anymore time.  I’m handing the tape over to the forensics lab and hopefully they can interpret what Hanson is saying.”

Penhall nodded wearily but Booker’s bright, almost manic eyes flashed impatiently.  “I want to keep trying Coach,” he replied in a rush of words.  “Can you get them to make a copy?”

Fuller hesitated for a moment before nodding his agreement.  “Get some sleep Booker,” he instructed, as he and Penhall headed for the door.  “You’ll be no help to anyone if you can’t think straight.”

Booker managed a small smile.  When he was alone, he sat down and stared vacantly at the blank TV screen, desperately trying to visualize the words that Tom’s lips had formed.

**

A courier delivered a copy of the tape to Booker’s apartment first thing the following morning.  Ripping open the packaging, Dennis placed the video in his VCR and pressed play.  Not wanting to watch the whole rape, he forwarded the tape to the point where Hanson started mouthing his message and sitting on the floor, just inches away from the TV screen, he stared at Tom’s face, concentrating intently on his mouth.  He scribbled down a few words and rewound the tape, starting the whole procedure again.  Time after time, he repeated the act and slowly he began to see a pattern.  The first three words definitely had two syllables but the fourth only had one.  Booker began to mimic the movement of Tom’s lips, trying various vocal sounds in the process.  After several hours, he was confident that the first word was the name Edward.  It was not much but for Booker it was a huge breakthrough and a large grin spread across his face.

He considered phoning Fuller but he quickly pushed the idea out of his mind.  He needed more information than just one name.  Instead, he took a short break and guzzled down a cup of sweet black coffee before taking his place once again in front of the TV.  

**

Tom’s eyes flickered open and he moaned in pain.  He lay naked on the floor, shackled to the wall by a long chain that fastened to a large manacle around his neck.  Sunlight filtered through a tiny air vent that was situated high on the wall, allowing him to see his prison for the first time.  Apart from the bed and table, the only other items in the room were several cardboard boxes stacked neatly under the far end of the table and a bucket placed a few feet away from where he lay.

Groaning softly, he slowly maneuvered himself to a sitting position.  Every inch of his body screamed in pain and he began a slow exploration of his injuries.  He ran his fingers lightly over the wounds on his face and he shuddered with revulsion when he remembered _the man_ biting into his tender flesh.  Next, he ran his hand carefully down his right side.  He winced in pain as his fingers probed the bruising over his kidney.  _The_ _man_ had punched him repeatedly whilst raping him, as though blaming Tom for the vile act he was committing.  Lastly, he reached around and gently explored his anus.  He could feel dried blood and semen coating his entrance and looking down at his legs, he saw that traces of the pinky-white fluid covered his thighs.  

His stomach lurched and scrabbling forward, he vomited watery bile into the bucket.  Tears of pain and humiliation coursed down his cheeks and he started to sob.  He was a prisoner, trapped with no hope of escaping the depraved sexual assaults that his captor was inflicting upon him.

Wiping his mouth with his hand, he staggered to his feet.  A wave of nausea blurred his vision and he leaned against the plastered wall until it passed.  When his head cleared, he relieved his bladder into the bucket, refusing to look down as his urine mixed with the foul watery liquid he had thrown up just minutes before.  Feeling slightly better, he decided he needed to take control of his situation.  His fingers explored the metal ring around his throat but he could find no way to release the manacle from his neck.  Sighing in frustration, he picked up the heavy chain and held it in his hand.  He slowly ran the links through his fingers, carefully searching for any weaknesses or breaks.  When his investigation found nothing, he once again felt the hopelessness of his circumstances.  About to sit back down, he once again spied the neat stack of boxes under the table.  Moving slowly forward, he prayed that the chain would be long enough to reach the bench.  He felt a tight pressure around his neck just inches before he reached the table.  Lying down on the cold concrete floor, he stretched out his arms and his fingers brushed the side of one of the boxes.  Grinning manically, he gently maneuvered the carton with his fingertips, easing it slowly towards him.  With a quiet exclamation of triumph, he grasped hold of the box and pulled it into his arms.  Struggling to a sitting position, he unfolded the flapped lid and pulled out a video.  Frowning in puzzlement, he looked into the carton and saw that it contain more videos, all enclosed in their cases.  Turning the tape over in his hand, he gasped in surprise when he saw the picture on the cover and suddenly everything clicked into place.

A slow smile spread over his face; he knew where he was being held captive. Now all he had to do was get a message to the outside world and he would be free.  



	11. Blindsided

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Tom’s eyes flickered open and he moaned in pain.  He lay naked on the floor, shackled to the wall by a long chain that fastened to a large manacle around his neck.  Sunlight filtered through a tiny air vent that was situated high on the wall, allowing him to see his prison for the first time.  Apart from the bed and table, the only other items in the room were several cardboard boxes stacked neatly under the far end of the table and a bucket placed a few feet away from where he lay._
> 
> _Groaning softly, he slowly maneuvered himself to a sitting position.  Every inch of his body screamed in pain and he began a slow exploration of his injuries.  He ran his fingers lightly over the wounds on his face and he shuddered with revulsion when he remembered the man biting into his tender flesh.  Next, he ran his hand carefully down his right side.  He winced in pain as his fingers probed the bruising over his kidney.  The man had punched him repeatedly whilst raping him, as though blaming Tom for the vile act he was committing.  Lastly, he reached around and gently explored his anus.  He could feel dried blood and semen coating his entrance and looking down at his legs, he saw that traces of the pinky-white fluid covered his thighs._
> 
> _His stomach lurched and scrabbling forward, he vomited watery bile into the bucket.  Tears of pain and humiliation coursed down his cheeks and he started to sob.  He was a prisoner, trapped with no hope of escaping the depraved sexual assaults that his captor was inflicting upon him._
> 
> _Wiping his mouth with his hand, he staggered to his feet.  A wave of nausea blurred his vision and he leaned against the plastered wall until it passed.  When his head cleared, he relieved his bladder into the bucket, refusing to look down as his urine mixed with the foul watery liquid he had thrown up just minutes before.  Feeling slightly better, he decided he needed to take control of his situation.  His fingers explored the metal ring around his throat but he could find no way to release the manacle from his neck.  Sighing in frustration, he picked up the heavy chain and held it in his hand.  He slowly ran the links through his fingers, carefully searching for any weaknesses or breaks.  When his investigation found nothing, he once again felt the hopelessness of his circumstances.  About to sit back down, he once again spied the neat stack of boxes under the table.  Moving slowly forward, he prayed that the chain would be long enough to reach the bench.  He felt a tight pressure around his neck just inches before he reached the table.  Lying down on the cold concrete floor, he stretched out his arms and his fingers brushed the side of one of the boxes.  Grinning manically, he gently maneuvered the carton with his fingertips, easing it slowly towards him.  With a quiet exclamation of triumph, he grasped hold of the box and pulled it into his arms.  Struggling to a sitting position, he unfolded the flapped lid and pulled out a video.  Frowning in puzzlement, he looked into the carton and saw that it contain more videos, all enclosed in their cases.  Turning the tape over in his hand, he gasped in surprise when he saw the picture on the cover and suddenly everything clicked into place._
> 
> _A slow smile spread over his face; he knew where he was_ _being held captive.  Now all he had to do was get a message to the outside world and he would be free._

**Blindsided**

_Friday morning_

Booker stared despondently at the crumpled piece of paper in his hand.  Rows of words covered every inch of the page; many crossed out with angry pen strokes wielded by a man who, as each hour ticked by, became increasingly frustrated.  Two days had passed since Tom’s abduction and since receiving the tape, Dennis had played it hundreds of times.  He chose to forfeit sleep so he could continue his examination of the video, relying on coffee and adrenaline to keep him awake.  Now, almost twenty-four hours later, he knew that he could no longer continue.  Tears of exhaustion filled his dark eyes and his sense of guilt intensified.  If he had not phoned Fuller from Tom’s apartment, he would have been there to defend Hanson when _the man_ broke in.  It was his fault that a sadistic rapist was holding Tom captive and now it was his fault that he was too stupid to decipher the silent message. 

He had failed Tom and he would never forgive himself.

Swiping away the stray tears that trickled down his cheeks, he stood up and walked over to his desk.  After hours in front of the television, he was reasonably certain that the third word that Tom was mouthing was Bentley.  He wondered if it was in reference to a car or if it was in fact, another name.  It was another small clue and he needed to pass it on to his Captain immediately.

As he reached out for the phone, it suddenly rang, the loud piercing sound making him jump.  Snatching up the receiver, he barked his name in reply.  “Booker!”

Adam Fuller’s anguished voice sounded down the line.  “Booker, it’s Fuller.  We’ve received another tape.”

The room swam before Dennis’ eyes and he leaned against the desk for support.  Screwing his eyes closed and pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried desperately to keep from throwing up.  “Is he… Oh God!  Is he being raped?” he asked in a desperate voice.

“Yes,” Fuller replied quietly.  “And there’s another message.  We’ve copied the tape and Sal’s bringing it straight over.”

Booker’s legs started to shake and pulling out a chair, he sat down heavily and resting his elbow on the table, he held his head in his hand.  “Did forensics come up with anything from the first tape?” he murmured, not wanting to think about what he was about to witness when the second video arrived.

Fuller sighed.  “They agree that the first word is Edward and they think the second word is Mister.”

Dennis’ head snapped up.  “Jesus!” he exclaimed.

“Does that mean something to you?” Fuller asked, his voice rising slightly.

Running his trembling fingers through his hair, Booker tried to contain his excitement.  “Cap’n, I’ve been watching this tape all night and I’m ninety-nine percent certain that the third word is Bentley.  That makes it _Mister_ Bentley.  We have a second name!”

Silence greeted Dennis’ announcement until eventually, Fuller responded in a gentle tone.  “I agree, it’s something but don’t get your hopes up Booker, we're still searching for a needle in a haystack.” 

The initial elation that Booker felt quickly disappeared and his shoulders slumped.  His Captain was right; the names Edward and Mr. Bentley did not offer any real clues to Hanson’s whereabouts.  They would need much more if they were to rescue their colleague.

A deep feeling of hopelessness overwhelmed Dennis and after promising Fuller that he would get some rest, he hung up the phone.

Standing up, he walked over to the couch and sat back down, his eyes staring expectantly at his front door.  The sooner he got the second tape, the sooner he would be able to try to decode Hanson’s desperate message.

**

The first time Dennis played the tape he was unable to watch.  Tom’s agonized screams and the abject terror on his face as _the man_ dragged his naked body across the floor by the chain around his neck was too much for Booker. Clasping a hand over his mouth, he bolted from his chair and collapsing on the bathroom floor, he vomited into the toilet.  Perspiration prickled his forehead and his body trembled uncontrollably.  It took several minutes before he felt well enough to flush the lavatory and stand up.  Turning on the faucet, he splashed his face with cool water before rinsing out his mouth.  Leaning against the hand basin, he stared at his dripping reflection in the mirror and was shocked to see how pale his face was.  The dark smudges under his eyes bore testimony to his lack of sleep and the left side of his jaw bore the bruise from Penhall’s angry punch.

Turning off the faucet, he grabbed a towel and dried his face.  As he stared again at his reflection, he realized that he was too emotional and too tired to concentrate on the sickening video.  He needed a few hours sleep and something other than coffee if he was to give his full attention to the unenviable task he had volunteered to do.

Sighing with resignation, he threw the towel on the floor and walked into his bedroom.  Without bothering to undress, he climbed onto his bed and fell into a troubled sleep.

**

Darkness once again shrouded the room and Tom lay shivering on the cold, wet cement floor.  His rape had been prolonged and brutal and it had taken all of his willpower not to continue screaming throughout the ordeal.  Instead, he had screwed his eyes closed and repeated three important words that he hoped would give the police the clue to his whereabouts.  

He was certain that his assumption was correct.  The conclusion had come to him when he opened the cardboard box and found dozens of X-rated movies.  He had immediately remembered the adult movie shop he had loitered in front of whilst posing as a homeless teen prostitute.  That and the loud chime of a clock he had heard on the first day of his captivity, convinced him that he was in a room inside the adult store that stood on the opposite side of the road to the city clock tower.  As it was all he had, he silently chanted, _adult movie shop… adult movie shop… adult movie shop…_ in the vain hope that someone would understand what he meant.

When the rape was finally over, _the man_ had instructed Edward to untie Tom and reconnect his chain to the wall.  Laughing cruelly, he had ended the abuse by throwing several buckets of freezing cold water over Hanson’s naked body before tossing the container against the wall.  Taking Edward by the hand, he had left, slamming the door behind him and plunging the room into darkness.

**

Having awoken after only a few hours sleep, Booker took a long, hot shower and reheated the three-day-old Chinese food he found in his refrigerator.  After his meal, he made a cup of coffee and with his notebook and pen in hand, he sat down in front of the TV.  With a shaky hand, he pressed _play_ on the VCR’s remote and stared at the screen.  His grasp on the pen in his hand tightened and his knuckles whitened as he watched Tom kicking and screaming as _the man_ pulled him across the floor.  Knowing what was coming, Booker’s breathing became shallow as he watched forceful hands bend Hanson over the table before his arms and legs were tethered.  _The man_ grinned manically into the camera, his arrogance evident in the lack of care he had at showing his face.  

When the rape began, Dennis muted the sound and focused on Tom’s mouth.  He watched the tape to the end before rewinding it to the place where Hanson started speaking.  This time, it did not take him long to split the words into syllables.  The first two words consisted of two syllables each and the last had one.  He quickly decided that the first syllable of the first word was _a_ , the first syllable of the second word was _moo_ and the first syllable of the third word was _sh_.  After watching the tape several more times, he wrote _vee_ as the second syllable of the second word.  Looking down at what he had written, his hand began to tremble.  _Moo-vee_ could be movie.  Excited by his progress, Dennis concentrated on the first word.  He wrote down _dolt_ next to _a_ and stared at the word.  Suddenly, it dawned on him that it was not _a-dolt_ but _a-dult_. 

Jumping to his feet, he let out a yell of excitement as he stared at the words in front of him.  Tom was saying adult movie and it was more than likely that the last word was _shop_.  Adult movie shop!  A distant memory nagged in the back of Dennis’ mind and he tried desperately to bring it to the forefront.  Sitting down on the couch, he held his head in his hands and closing his eyes, he furrowed his brow and concentrated.  Slowly, an image from his last assignment came into his mind; Tom looking cold and miserable whilst standing outside a brightly lit window advertising adult movies.

Leaping from the couch, he ran into his bedroom and grabbed his gun.  As he bolted from his apartment and down the stairs to his car, he completely forgot that he should have phoned Fuller.

**

Pulling up across the street from the adult shop, Booker sat for several minutes watching the store.  At six o’clock at night, the shop was doing a reasonable trade and Dennis wondered how it was that no one heard Tom’s cries for help.  He concluded that Hanson was in a room at the very back of the shop, away from customers’ listening ears and the busy street outside.  

Getting out of the car, he dodged the peak hour traffic and ran across the road.  He furtively stared through the window but the tinting prevented him from seeing inside.  Walking to the street corner, he turned into a dimly lit side alley.  Adrenaline coursed through his veins and pulling out his gun, he kept to the shadows and slowly made his way along the uneven asphalt.  

At the sound of voices, Booker flattened himself against the brick building and tightened his grip on his gun.  His eyes widened when he saw _the man_ walk out of a doorway approximately ten feet away.  _The man_ paused and spoke to someone inside the shop before closing the door and sauntering further down the alleyway.  Dennis followed silently behind, his heart hammering in his chest.  After walking another twenty feet _the man_ stopped and Booker heard the screech of rusty hinges as he opened a large metal door.  _The man_ disappeared inside and the door banged closed.

Moving slowly forward, Booker reached the door and listened.  Unable to hear any noise from inside, he carefully tried the levered handle.  Knowing that the squeal of the rusty hinges would forewarn _the man_ that someone was entering the room, Dennis knew he needed to act fast.  Counting silently to three, he raised his gun and threw open the door.

His first sight was Tom.  The young police officer wore a manacle around his neck and the long chain shackled him to the wall.  He was naked and the right side of his body was a mass of purple bruises.  Turning his head, Booker pointed his gun at _the man_ who had caused Hanson so much pain.  He quickly pulled out his badge and held it in front of him.  “Police!  Get down on the floor!”

 _The man_ smiled in amusement.  “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” he crooned.  “Another boyish police officer, this must be my lucky day.”

As he started to shout his command again, Dennis heard Tom cry out a warning.  Turning slightly, he felt a powerful bolt of pain surging through his head and he fell to the ground unconscious.


	12. Torn and Frayed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Moving slowly forward, Booker reached the door and listened.  Unable to hear any noise from inside, he carefully tried the levered handle.  Knowing that the squeal of the rusty hinges would forewarn the man that someone was entering the room, Dennis knew he needed to act fast.  Counting silently to three, he raised his gun and threw open the door._
> 
> _His first sight was Tom.  The young police officer wore a manacle around his neck and the long chain shackled him to the wall.  He was naked and the right side of his body was a mass of purple bruises.  Turning his head, Booker pointed his gun at the man who had caused Hanson so much pain.  He quickly pulled out his badge and held it in front of him.  “Police!  Get down on the floor!”_
> 
> _The man smiled in amusement.  “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” he crooned.  “Another boyish police officer, this must be my lucky day.”_
> 
> _As he started to shout his command again, Dennis heard Tom cry out a warning.  Turning slightly, he felt a powerful bolt of pain surging through his head and he fell to the ground unconscious._

**Torn and Frayed**  

A soft moan escaped Booker’s lips and his eyes slowly flickered open.  The first thing he saw was Tom’s frightened face gazing down at him.  He stared back in confusion, unable to comprehend why Hanson had a metal collar around his neck.   Gradually, the memories of the last few days filtered into his mind.  “Tommy,” he murmured softly.  “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh,” Tom replied in a hushed tone.  “You’ve got a nasty head wound.  Just try and relax.”

Ignoring Hanson’s instructions, Booker attempted to sit up but his vision blurred and he slumped back onto the concrete floor.  Feeling a heaviness around his throat, he reached up and his fingers touched the cold steel of the manacle around his neck.  Fear gripped at his heart and his breathing became labored.  Instead of rescuing Tom, he had managed to become a victim himself.

Closing his eyes, he pushed himself into a sitting position, using the wall behind him as support.  A wave of nausea washed over him and taking several deep breaths, he silently willed it to pass.  When he finally felt steady enough, he opened his eyes and it was then that he realized that he too was naked.  

“Oh Jesus,” he groaned as his fingers gently explored the bloody wound on the back of his head.  

Tom moved in close and his worried eyes searched Booker’s face.  “How long until Fuller and the others arrive?” he asked softly.

A pink stain tinged Booker’s pale face.  “They…” he began, his dark eyes imploring with Hanson to understand.  When Tom stared back expectantly, Dennis swallowed down the lump in his throat and continued in a quiet voice.  “They don’t know where we are.”

“ _What?_ ” Tom whispered in disbelief.  “How can they not know where we are?”

Booker gave Hanson a sheepish look.  “After watching…”  He hesitated for a moment, not wanting to mention the tapes.  “I worked out what you were saying and I remembered the adult movie store.  I was so excited, I just wanted to find you and I didn’t think… I’m sorry Hanson, I forgot to report in before I came here.”

“FUCK!” Tom yelled in frustration and he lowered his head and held it in his hands.  “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

“I’m sorry,” Booker mumbled miserably as tears filled his dark eyes.  “I’m really sorry.”

Seeing Dennis’ embarrassment, Tom’s eyes softened.  “It’s okay,” he murmured.  “We’ll think of something.”

Turning his head, Booker gave Hanson a concerned look.  “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, wanting desperately to pull the bruised officer into his arms and give him comfort.  

Tom lowered his gaze to the floor.  “I guess,” he muttered quietly.  A long silence stretched out between them before Hanson spoke again.  “You saw the tapes?”

Booker gave Tom a compassionate look.  “Yeah, Fuller, Penhall and I watched it,” he murmured.  “But only because we wanted to find you Tommy, not because—”

“Oh God,” Hanson whispered and tears of shame filled his brown eyes before spilling over and trickling down his cheeks.  “Oh God!”

Unable to bear Tom’s pain, Booker put his arm around the naked officer’s shoulders and pulled him close.  “Don’t cry Tommy,” he comforted as his hand gently stroked Hanson’s matted hair.  “I’m here now and I won’t let him hurt you again.”

Hanson gazed up at Booker and started to speak, but his eyes suddenly grew wide with terror and his head spun around at the sound of the door opening.  “No,” he whispered, shaking his head violently from side to side.  “No, no, no, no—”

“Well isn’t that sweet,” Rory Bentley exclaimed in a loud, cheerful voice as he entered the room carrying a gun.  “Look at that Edward,” he addressed his young companion who had followed him through the door.  “Two beautiful men giving each other comfort.”  Walking across the room, he stopped several feet from the two shackled men and stared down at them with amusement.  “So, Officer Booker, I guess you must _really_ like Officer Hanson to have come charging in here without any backup.”

Booker gave _the man_ a seething look.  “Fuck you!” he spat.  “You’re going to go to prison for a very—”

Bentley waved his hand impatiently at Dennis.  “Blah de, blah, blah, blah,” he muttered in a bored tone.  “I don’t care about the future, I live for the now and the _now_ includes fucking one of you beautiful boys.  So who shall it be, huh?  Who feels like a bit of loving?”

Tom’s face visibly paled and he wrapped his arms around his drawn up knees in a protective manner.  Booker glared back defiantly, unwilling to show the fear that had paralyzed his body.

Rory Bentley touched the barrel of the gun to his lips and knitted his brow in concentration.  After several moments, he pointed the gun at Booker.

“Eeny,” he said quietly before moving the gun in Hanson’s direction.  “Meeny,” he muttered and he continued to recite the children’s rhyme whilst pointing the gun back and forth between the two men.

“miny, moe,  
Catch a tiger by the toe.  
If he hollers, let him go,  
Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.”

He paused for a moment and his eyes sparkled with excitement before he resumed the chant.

“My mother says,  
to pick the very best,  
and that one is  
Y…  
O…  
U!”

The gun stopped in front of Dennis and Rory grinned wickedly.  “I guess it’s _you_ Officer Booker,” he crooned.

Dennis’ mind screamed in terror as he watched Edward raise a gun and approach Hanson.  “NO!” he yelled, his voice rising in fear.  “DON’T!  PLEASE DON’T!”

Edward stepped towards Hanson but the young officer immediately tried to wrestle the Glock from the youth’s hand.  However, his attempt was futile; he was weak from lack of food and water and the boy easily overpowered him.  Booker lunged at Edward but he quickly shrank away when he felt the cold steel of Bentley’s gun pressing against the back of his head.

“Move away Officer Booker,” _the man_ commanded in a quiet voice.  “If you don’t, I’ll have Edward shoot your partner.”

Tears slid down Dennis’ cheeks and he slowly shuffled away.  His eyes met Hanson’s and he cried out when Edward pushed the gun against his colleague’s temple and flicked off the safety.  Tom’s eyes immediately screwed shut and his hands pressed against his face as he waited to die.

“STOP!” Booker yelled.  “I’ll do whatever you want!  Don’t hurt him!  Please don’t hurt him!”

A slow smile spread over Bentley’s face.  “Very good Officer Booker,” he murmured and he motioned for Edward to step back.  “Now, let’s have some fun.”

When _the man_ stepped forward and unlocked the shackle from around his neck, Booker did not attempt to fight back.  Standing up, he followed Bentley to the bed that stood in the middle of the room.  Turning his head, he stared briefly into Tom’s wide, terrified eyes before looking away.

“Get on your hands and knees,” Bentley instructed, his voice husky with arousal as he massaged his cock through his jeans.

Dennis did at he was asked and out of the corner of his eye he watched as _the man_ undressed.  When Bentley climbed behind him, he lowered his head and waited.  He remained completely still, afraid that if _the man_ perceived him to be a threat, he would order Tom’s execution.  When _the man_ thrust his erect cock deep into his unprepared hole, Booker bit down on his lip and stifled a cry.  

Bentley groaned with pleasure as he thrust in an out of Dennis’ body.  “Oh Officer Booker,” _the man_ panted and entwining his fingers in Dennis’ hair, he yanked the officer’s head backwards so he could look into his eyes.  “I can tell I’m not your first,” he wheezed as he pounded his cock roughly in and out of Booker’s anus.  “But I promise you, you’ll never forget me.”

Reaching down, Rory wrapped his fingers around Dennis’ cock.  “Are you going to come for me?” he gasped against Booker’s ear.

Dennis screwed his eyes closed and willed his body not to react.  Tears of pain and humiliation leaked from his eyes and he stifled a sob.  He was grateful that his cock remained limp and eventually Bentley gave up and concentrated on gaining his own release.

As he neared his climax, Bentley started to punch brutally at Dennis’ side with his fist, just as he had done to Tom.  With a cry of delight, he shuddered his orgasm deep inside Booker’s body.  When he was finally spent, he pulled out his cock and pushed Booker roughly onto the bed.  

Dennis rolled onto his back and stared vacantly at the ceiling as _the man_ climbed off the bed and pulled on his clothing.  Looking down at Booker, Bentley gave him a wink.  “Next time I’ll make you come,” he leered.

Turning his head, Dennis narrowed his eyes.  “In your fucking dreams,” he spat venomously.

With lightening speed, Bentley reached out and grasping a handful of Booker’s hair, he yanked him from the bed.  Dennis screamed in pain as _the man_ dragged him across the floor and back to where Hanson sat with his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped tightly around his legs.  After placing the manacle back around Booker’s neck, Bentley stepped back and motioned for Edward to stand next to him.  Glaring down at the two naked officers, he spoke in a low, threatening voice.  “Oh you _will_ come for me Officer Booker and when you do it will be when your cock is buried deep inside Officer Hanson.”

Edward laughed loudly at the horrified look on Tom’s face.  Smiling with satisfaction, Bentley took hold of the laughing man’s hand and exited the room.

When the door slammed closed, Dennis pulled up his knees and mirrored Tom’s position.  Turning his head, he gave Hanson a watery smile but his façade quickly crumbled and dropping his head to his knees, he started to sob.  He felt two arms encircle his body and he fell against Tom’s bare chest and wept uncontrollably.  As Hanson’s fingers lightly played with his hair he took comfort from the soothing gesture.  As his sobs turned to hiccups, he lifted his head and gazed deep into Tom’s eyes.  “We’re screwed,” he stated in a soft voice.

Tom managed an encouraging smile and repeated his earlier statement.  “We’ll think of something.”  When Dennis did not reply, he placed his palm against his colleague’s wet cheek.  “Lie down and get some sleep,” he instructed gently.  “I’ll keep watch.”

Sighing heavily, Dennis reluctantly disengaged himself from Tom’s comforting embrace and lay down on the hard floor.  Closing his eyes, he was asleep within moments.

As he gazed down at his partner, Hanson felt a stabbing pain in his heart.  He knew all too well how Booker was feeling; the shame, the guilt and the humiliation were insurmountable.  

As he closed his eyes, Bentley’s final words echoed in his mind and a cold shiver ran down his spine.  If the deranged man forced them to have sex with each other, Tom knew it would be something that both he and Booker would suffer with forever.  



	13. Two Officers, Twice the Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter is a little longer than the others.  I hope it does not disappoint.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: When the door slammed closed, Dennis pulled up his knees and mirrored Tom’s position.  Turning his head, he gave Hanson a watery smile but his façade quickly crumbled and dropping his head to his knees, he started to sob.  He felt two arms encircle his body and he fell against Tom’s bare chest and wept uncontrollably.  As Hanson’s fingers lightly played with his hair he took comfort from the soothing gesture.  As his sobs turned to hiccups, he lifted his head and gazed deep into Tom’s eyes.  “We’re screwed,” he stated in a soft voice._
> 
> _Tom managed an encouraging smile and repeated his earlier statement.  “We’ll think of something.”  When Dennis did not reply, he placed his palm against his colleague’s wet cheek.  “Lie down and get some sleep,” he instructed gently.  “I’ll keep watch.”_
> 
> _Sighing heavily, Dennis reluctantly disengaged himself from Tom’s comforting embrace and lay down on the hard floor.  Closing his eyes, he was asleep within moments._
> 
> _As he gazed down at his partner, Hanson felt a stabbing pain in his heart.  He knew all too well how Booker was feeling; the shame, the guilt and the humiliation were insurmountable._
> 
> _As he closed his eyes, Bentley’s final words echoed in his mind and a cold shiver ran down his spine.  If the deranged man forced them to have sex with each other, Tom knew it would be something that both he and Booker would suffer with forever._

**Two Officers, Twice the Fun**  

Edward returned several hours later with a couple of sandwiches and a container of water.  The light filtering through the small air vent slowly faded as the sun disappeared behind the horizon and the room was plunged into darkness.  Tom and Dennis ate in silence, neither wanting to talk about the rapes or Bentley’s perverse comment about them having sex with each other.  

As the temperature in the room dropped, Tom started to shiver and Booker wrapped his arms around the young officer’s trembling body and pulled him close, causing their chains to rattle eerily.  “Hey,” he said in a soft voice.  “Are you okay?”

“C-cold,” Hanson replied as he tried to stop shaking.  Lifting his head, he peered at Booker’s outline through the darkness.  “I hate to state the obvious but we need to get out of here.”

“Yeah,” Dennis responded softly.  “But the only chance we’ve got is if Bentley comes here alone.”

Tom remained silent for several minutes before voicing his concerns in a shaky voice.  “What if he… you know… makes us _do_ stuff?”

“I don’t know Tom,” Booker answered quietly.

Another long silence stretched out before Hanson spoke again in a voice barely above a whisper.  “Could you do it?”

Booker was grateful for the darkness as his face flushed scarlet.   He knew he needed to give Hanson an answer but he did not know what to say.  Under different circumstances, he would willingly make love to Tom; it was something he had dreamed about since he first met the handsome officer months before.  However, if he was forced to do it against Tom’s will, then it was rape and he would be no better than the depraved Rory Bentley.  But he also knew that if a gun were pointed at Hanson’s head, he would do it to spare his partner’s life, whether Tom ever forgave him or not.

Chewing on his lower lip, he gave his reply.  “Maybe,” he muttered.

Tom pulled away from Dennis’ arms and stared into his colleague’s shadowy face.  “You’ve done it before,” he stated matter-of-factly.  “I heard what Bentley said to you about him not being your first.  Do you fuck guys or do you just let them fuck you?”

Tom’s blunt questioning angered Booker and his hands balled into tight fists.  To prevent himself from hitting Hanson, he scrambled as far away from his antagonist as the chain around his neck would allow.  “Don’t worry _Tommy_ ,” he spat furiously.  “You’re not my type.”

Realizing that he had said the wrong thing, Tom moved across the floor until he was once again sitting next to Booker.  “Sorry,” he apologized in a quiet voice.  “I don’t know why I said that.  I think I’m starting to go a little crazy.”

The images of Tom’s rapes flashed through Dennis’ mind and he sighed heavily.  Hanson had been through a lot and it was little wonder that he was not thinking clearly.  “Apology accepted,” he muttered in a flat voice.  “Now get some sleep.”

Tom lay down on the cold cement and pulled his legs up to his chest in an effort to keep warm.  Booker remained sitting, staring out into the gloomy room, as the shadowy outlines of the table and bed silently taunted him.

**

Adam Fuller put down the phone and leaned back in his chair.  He had been unable to contact Booker since their last phone conversation about the second tape and he had an uneasy feeling that the impulsive young officer had somehow gotten himself into trouble.  After an anxious wait, he had finally heard from the forensics laboratory about the video.  Looking down at his notepad, he silently spoke the words written in his small, neat script.  _Edward, Mister Bentley, clock, Adult, Movie, Shop_.  The first two words were obviously the names of Tom’s kidnappers and the last were clues to his whereabouts.

Sighing heavily, he pushed back his chair and stood up.  Walking over to his open doorway, he yelled for Penhall.  When the officer arrived, he closed the door and motioned to a chair.  Picking up the piece of paper with Hanson’s message, he handed it to Doug.  “Does this mean anything to you?” he asked in a serious voice.  

Penhall read the words.  “No Coach,” he replied despondently.  “But they must be the names of Tommy’s abductors and the clock and shop reference must point to where he is being held.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Fuller responded.  He paused for a moment whilst he decided on the best course of action.  “Get Ioki and Hoffs and start researching; the clock and movie store must be close together so they shouldn’t be too difficult to find.  Go downtown and check the NCIC database to see if there is any association between an Edward and a man named Bentley.  It’s a long shot but we’ve nothing else to work with.”

Penhall nodded and stood up.  Tom had been missing for four days and as each hour passed, he became more desperate to find his friend and rescue him from the nightmare he was living.

As he walked from the room, he suddenly stopped and turning back around, he addressed his superior.  “Any word from Booker?” he asked quietly.

Fuller shook his head.  “I don’t know whether to be worried or pissed off,” he replied with a sigh.  “Booker causes me more problems than all my other officers put together.”

Doug gave a nervous smile.  “Let’s hope you end up being pissed off,” he answered softly.  “Because the alternative means…”  His voice trailed off and lowering his eyes, he turned and walked from the room.

**

A soft light filtered into the cold, dim room and Tom’s eyelids fluttered open.  He immediately felt a heaviness across his body and looking down, he saw Booker’s arm draped over his waist.  He wondered at what point during the night they had come together, whether it had happened consciously or unconsciously.  Either way, he was thankful for the warmth and the feeling of protection that Booker’s embrace had offered him.

Lifting Dennis’ arm, he gently disengaged himself.  His cramped muscles ached painfully as he staggered to his feet and walked over to the bucket.  After relieving his bladder, he picked up the water container and took several sips, saving the rest of the fluid for Booker.  A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes and he felt lightheaded and a little nauseous.  Looking down at Dennis, he winced when he saw the purple bruises covering the officer’s lower back and side.  The injury mirrored his own contusions and his fingers tenderly explored the painful area over his kidney.  He gasped in pain and quickly pulled his hand away.  There was obviously some damage but he hoped it was only external and not internal.

In need of human contact, he sat down next to Booker and laying a hand on the sleeping man’s shoulder, he gave it a light shake.  Dennis moaned in his sleep before slowly opening his eyes.  Seeing Tom staring down at him, he gave a sleepy smile.  “Geez Hanson,” he murmured softly.  “I was having a really good dream.”

“Yeah?” Tom replied solemnly.  “Well I hate to break it to you Booker but the reality is, we’re living in a nightmare.”

The significance of Tom’s words struck a chord with Booker and the smile vanished from his face.  Sitting up, he ran his hand through his tousled hair.  “Any suggestions?” he asked quietly.

When Tom remained silent, he got up and walked over to the bucket.  After urinating, he picked up the bottle of water and carried it over to where Hanson was sitting silently staring off into space.  He sat down and offered the bottle but Tom shook his head.  “I’ve already had some,” he replied softly.  “The rest is yours.”

Booker took a sip and screwed the cap back on before placing the container on the ground.  After several minutes of silence, he placed a hand on Hanson’s shoulder.  “I think we should jump him,” he stated.

Tom looked up with sad eyes.  “And risk one of us getting shot?” he asked pragmatically.  “Shit Booker, he’s barely feeding us, I doubt he’s going to care if one of us is lying on the floor bleeding to death.”

Dennis sighed impatiently.  “Well what do _you_ suggest?” he asked in annoyance.  “We can’t just sit here and wait—”

The door across the room opened and Bentley and Edward walked in, both carrying a gun.  Edward also carried a bottle of water and he tossed it carelessly across the room towards the two officers.  The plastic bottle hit the floor and rolled next to Tom and the young officer quickly picked it up and checked that the plastic had not split.  Satisfied that it was okay, he placed it to one side.

“Ah, my beautiful boys,” Bentley called out merrily as he strode across the room.  “And how are we feeling today?”

Hanson remained silent but Booker stared directly into the deranged man’s eyes.  “Fuck you,” he hissed.  “When I get out of here, you’d better hope that I don’t find you.”

Bentley threw back his head and roared with laughter.  After wiping the tears from his eyes, he smiled at Dennis.  “Oh Officer Booker,” he smirked.  “You do amuse me.  Do you really think you’re _ever_ getting out of here?”  When Booker did not reply, _the man_ laughed again and clapped his hands excitedly.  “Enough chat, let’s have some fun.  Edward, get the camcorder.”

Edward hurried from the room and returned moments later with the video recorder.  Tom shot a nervous glance at Booker and beads of perspiration moistened his upper lip.  He was terrified of what was to come, especially after _the man’s_ comments the previous day.

“Now boys,” Bentley continued cheerfully.  “Today we’re going to make a movie and whether or not it becomes a snuff film is ultimately up to you.  If you behave, you live.  If you don’t… well let’s just say things could get bloody.”

Booker could feel Tom’s body trembling beside him and reaching out, he took hold of the frightened officer’s hand.  Ignoring Bentley, he turned and placed his other hand on the back of Hanson’s neck.  “Hey,” he murmured.  “It’s okay, we’ll get through this.”

“How?” Tom whispered, his eyes brimming with tears.  “Oh God Booker, _how?_ ”

Dennis gently pulled Tom towards him until their foreheads were almost touching.  “We do what he says,” he murmured softly.  “Our goal is to stay alive Tommy and I believe he _will_ kill us if we don’t follow his orders.”

Tom let Booker’s words sink in before he replied.  “Okay,” he responded in a low, quavering voice.  “But when I get the chance, I’m going to kill the son-of-a-bitch with my bare hands.”

Hanson’s words sent a chill of fear down Booker’s spine.  He had never heard Tom speak in such a violent way before and suddenly, he worried about what the young officer was capable of doing if given the opportunity.

Bentley clapped his hands impatiently.  “Come on boys, it’s showtime!” he cried out happily.  Raising his gun, he pointed it at Booker.  “Officer Hanson, Edward is going to unchain you and if you try anything, Officer Booker will get a bullet between the eyes, understood?”

“Yes,” Tom mumbled miserably.  He felt impotent, completely powerless against the mad man standing before him.  Casting a final glance at Booker, he sat patiently as Edward removed the manacle from around his neck.

“Get up,” Edward instructed and Tom clambered to his feet.  The young man placed the barrel of his gun against the back of Tom’s head and pushed him towards the bed.  “Lie down on your back!” he barked authoritatively, enjoying the power that his master had bestowed upon him.

Lying down, Hanson winced as Edward yanked his arms above the bed and tied them together before attaching them to the railed bed head.  Satisfied with his work, the young man pointed the gun at Tom and nodded at Bentley.

Stepping forward Rory looked down at Dennis.  “I think you know what I’m about to say Officer Booker,” he murmured.  “Edward is an excellent shot and if you so much as fart in my direction, he’ll blow Hanson’s head off.”

Booker nodded his understanding and he sat compliantly as Bentley released him from his metal collar.  Waving his gun, _the man_ indicated for him to walk over to the bed.  As he stood staring down at Tom lying naked and bound on top of the sheets, he felt a stirring in his groin.  Horrified at his body’s reaction, he closed his eyes and bit down hard on his lip.  

An amused laugh sounded in his ears and opening his eyes, he saw Bentley smiling in delight.  “Well isn’t that interesting,” Bentley chuckled.  “The sight of Officer Hanson lying naked and tethered on a bed makes you horny.”

Tom stared up at Booker in shock and he felt sick to his stomach.  He watched as tears of shame filled Booker’s eyes and he quickly turned away, not wanting to witness the officer’s humiliation.

Unconcerned by the young men’s obvious displays of emotion, Bentley pushed Booker towards the bed.  “I think you know what to do Officer Booker and please, I want you to put your heart and soul into it because I want to video it for my _special_ customers.  Now, get on the bed and I’ll tell you when to begin.”

Booker stood motionless with his eyes screwed shut, desperately trying to think of a way out.  He jumped when he felt cold steel pressing against the back of his head.  “Move,” Bentley snarled.  “Or Officer Hanson will be scooping your brains up off the floor.”

Wiping his hand over his mouth, Booker climbed onto the bottom of the bed.  He realized that resistance was futile but that did not mean that he could not do things his own way.  Turning his head, he gave Bentley an impassive look.  “If you want it to look good on tape, let me use some lubrication,” he muttered, trying desperately to keep the anger out of his voice.  Then another thought popped into his mind.  “And a condom.”

Bentley thought about Booker’s proposal for a moment before nodding at Edward.  “Get the lubrication,” he instructed.  “But you’re riding bareback today Officer Booker.”

Edward scurried away and returned several minutes later with a tube of lubrication.  After handing it to Booker, he picked up the camcorder and stood expectantly, waiting for his master’s command.

Bentley began to rub at his cock through his trousers.  “Begin,” he groaned excitedly.

Edward switched on the recorder and focused it on the two men on the bed.  Booker made the decision to try and forget that he was being watched, to try and treat Hanson in the same way that he would treat any of his lovers; respectfully, lovingly and sensually.

“Hey,” he murmured and he gently turned Hanson’s face towards him.  “You’ve got to trust me, okay?”

Tom’s eyes filled with tears but he nodded his head.  Booker smiled at him affectionately.  “I’m going to touch you,” he whispered.  “Just try and relax.”

Kneeling back, Booker carefully bent up Tom’s knees and opened his legs.  He placed one hand on Tom’s left side and using his thumb, he lightly stroked the flawless skin.  Tom’s wide eyes gazed up at him and smiling encouragingly, he reached down with his right hand and gently caressed Hanson’s perineum.  He felt Tom jump at the contact but he continued to move his finger in a circular motion around the soft flesh.  Gradually, he moved his finger towards Tom’s anus and when he brushed his finger over the opening, he heard a soft gasp escape from Hanson’s lips.  He stroked over the puckered hole for another minute before lightly caressing Tom’s testicles.  He tugged gently at the sac before moving his finger back to Tom’s perineum.  Another minute passed then he gradually stopped and picking up the lubrication, he squirted a large dollop onto his fingers.  Lifting his left hand, he continued to stroke Tom whilst he liberally lubricated his own cock.  When he was satisfied, he placed another blob of oil onto his finger.  Leaning forward so his face was only inches from Tom’s, he spoke in a low voice.  “I’m going to use my finger first.  I’ll try not to hurt you.”

Tom bit down on his lip and nodded.  Booker placed his finger against Tom’s anus and smiled lovingly.  “Breathe in,” he instructed.  Hanson took a deep breath and waited.  “Now breathe out,” Booker murmured and when Tom exhaled, he carefully pushed the tip of his finger inside the puckered hole.  “Again,” he encouraged gently and little by little, he inserted his finger.  His erect cock throbbed painfully at the sight before him and closing his eyes, he took several deep, calming breaths.  He then began to move his finger in a slow, circular motion inside of Tom.  Gradually, he felt Hanson relax and he pushed slowly through the tight wall of muscle.  Once inside, he reached out and gently brushed Tom’s sweaty hair from his eyes.  “Okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” Tom murmured, his gaze never leaving Booker’s dark eyes.

Dennis returned a tender smile.  “I’m going to move my finger in and out.  It will help to open you up,” he advised quietly.  Tom closed his eyes and after hesitating for a moment, Booker began to thrust carefully with his finger.  When the internal muscles had relaxed completely, he pushed a little deeper and finding Tom’s prostate, he began to massage it gently.

Tom’s eyes flew open and his face bore a startled expression.  Excited by the reaction, Booker leaned forward; his lips so close that Hanson could feel the young officer’s hot breath against his face.  

“Can you feel it Tommy?” Booker breathed.

“Oh God,” Tom moaned and he felt his cock begin to swell.  “Oh God!”

Knowing that it was time, Booker slowly withdrew his finger.  Leaning over Tom’s body, he supported himself on one hand and placed the tip of his cock against his partner’s entrance.  “Wrap your legs around me,” he panted, his weeping cock aching for release.

Tom hesitated for a moment before lifting his legs and encircling them around Booker’s waist.  He felt the hardness of Dennis’ cock pressing against him and he screwed his eyes closed and waited for the pain.  Instead, he felt pressure below and the feeling of being stretched open.  Opening his eyes, he looked up at Booker and saw two black eyes gazing down at him.

“Ready?” Dennis whispered, his voice sounding husky.

When Tom nodded his reply, Booker started to rock his hips gently forwards and backwards.  As his thrusts increased, he had to suppress a moan of pleasure.  He shifted his position slightly and he tried not to grin when Tom cried out as his prostate was stimulated.  

With every thrust, Booker’s arousal intensified and he completely forgot his surroundings; he forgot that he was being filmed and he forgot that he was just a pawn in Bentley’s sexual fantasy.  All he saw was the man he had dreamed about, writhing beneath him.  Lowering his head, he placed his mouth against Tom’s.  “Do you want me to touch you?” he moaned as he sucked at the protruding flesh of Hanson’s lower lip.

“ _Yesss!_ ” Tom hissed in delight and when Booker wrapped his fingers around his throbbing cock, he cried out from the double pleasure.  “Harder!” he panted.  “Oh God I’m gonna come!”

Booker increased his thrusts whilst nipping and sucking at the taut skin of Hanson’s throat.  “Come for me baby,” he murmured, unaware that he had used such an affectionate term.  “I wanna feel you come.”

“Oh fuck,” Tom groaned.  “Oh fuck, oh yes… oh yes… oh yes… ohhh _YESSS!_ ”  His climax hit hard and he forcefully ejaculated over his stomach, his semen covering Booker’s fingers.  With a yell, Booker began to thrust deeper inside of Tom’s body and when his orgasm hit, he cried out in delight.  Panting heavily, he continued to thrust until his erection softened.  With a moan of satisfaction, he carefully pulled out and dropping on top of Tom’s sweaty torso, he found his mouth and kissed him passionately.

So caught up in the moment, Tom kissed Dennis back hungrily.  Only when they heard the sound of clapping did they return to reality and to the true horror of what they had just done.

“Bravo!  Bravo!” Bentley called out happily.  “Gentlemen, that was _magnificent!_   I could never have dreamed of such a performance.  You will become stars and this video will go down in history as one of the best pornographic movies ever made!”

Panic gripped at Tom’s heart and he began to struggle.  “Get off me,” he cried, his voice rising hysterically.  “Get off me… get off me… GET OFF ME!”

Frightened by the terror in Hanson’s voice, Booker clambered from the bed.  Looking down in horror, he watched whilst Tom frantically threw his head from side to side.  “NO!” Tom screamed wildly.  “NO!  NO!  NO!  NO… _NOOO!_ ”

Dropping to his knees, Booker buried his face in his hands.  As Tom continued to scream, the sound of Bentley’s laughter echoed around the room.


	14. Breaking Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: So caught up in the moment, Tom kissed Dennis back hungrily.  Only when they heard the sound of clapping did they return to reality and to the true horror of what they had just done._
> 
> _“Bravo!  Bravo!” Bentley called out happily.  “Gentlemen, that was magnificent!  I could never have dreamed of such a performance.  You will become stars and this video will go down in history as one of the best pornographic movies ever made!”_
> 
> _Panic gripped at Tom’s heart and he began to struggle.  “Get off me,” he cried, his voice rising hysterically.  “Get off me… get off me… GET OFF ME!”_
> 
> _Frightened by the terror in Hanson’s voice, Booker clambered from the bed.  Looking down in horror, he watched whilst Tom frantically threw his head from side to side.  “NO!” Tom screamed wildly.  “NO!  NO!  NO!  NO… NOOO!”_
> 
> _Dropping to his knees, Booker buried his face in his hands.  As Tom continued to scream, the sound of Bentley’s laughter echoed around the room._

**Breaking Point**  

When Tom’s screaming finally stopped, the room became eerily silent.  Raising his head from his hands, Booker stared at Hanson’s prone body, which remained tied to the bed head.  Tom’s eyes stared blankly in front of him and his face was deathly pale.  Getting slowly to his feet, Booker started to walk towards him but Bentley’s harsh voice stopped him.  “Not another inch further Officer Booker.”

Turning around, Dennis gave his captor an imploring look.  “Please,” he begged quietly, his dark eyes filling with tears.  “Let me comfort him.”

Bentley grinned cruelly.  “I doubt he’ll want _your_ comfort, not after what you did to him.”

Dennis choked back a sob and he returned his gaze to Tom.  He was worried that the young officer had gone into shock.  Hanson’s eyes remained open but they were vacant, almost as though he were comatose.  It frightened him to see Tom lying so passively when only moments before he had been screaming hysterically.

Looking back at Bentley, Booker started to cry.  “Please,” he sobbed.  “I need to see if he’s okay.”

 _The man_ sighed heavily and turned to Edward.  “Untie Officer Hanson and chain him back to the wall,” he instructed.

Dennis watched as Edward moved forward and untied the rope that bound Tom’s wrists to the iron railing.  The youth giggled as Tom’s arms dropped lifelessly to the bed.  Grabbing Hanson by one arm, he roughly pulled him from the mattress and onto the concrete floor.  Tom made no sound as his body hit the hard surface.  Without bothering to hold onto Tom’s other arm, the young man dragged the lifeless body across the floor.  When he reached the wall, he secured the shackle around Hanson’s neck and stepped back.

Bentley motioned with his gun for Dennis to walk towards Edward.  Booker’s shoulders slumped and wiping the tears from his eyes, he made his way over to the wall and sat down.  Bentley had his gun pointed at Tom’s body, reminding Booker not to fight back and accepting his fate, he allowed the youth to chain him to the wall beside Hanson.

“Enjoy your alone time,” Bentley chuckled and when Edward joined him, he draped his arm around his protégé’s shoulders and after kissing him lovingly on top of his head, the two men left the room.

When the door closed, Booker scrambled over to Tom, who had pulled his knees to his chest and now lay curled in the fetal position.  Hanson’s stare remained fixed and Dennis started to panic.  He did not know what to do and he was terrified that if he touched Tom, it would cause him to mentally breakdown again.

Pulling his chain as far as it would reach, Booker lay down on the floor and gazed into Hanson’s sightless, unblinking eyes.  He refrained from making contact; instead, he spoke in a low, comforting tone.  “Hey Tommy,” he murmured.  “It’s okay, it’s over now.”

Tom showed no sign that he had heard his fellow officer's voice.  Booker’s eyes again filled with tears and this time, he reached out and gently stroked Hanson’s face.  “Please Tom,” he whispered, his voice hitching in his throat.  “Tell me you’re okay.”

Hanson’s ghostly face remained frozen, his lips slightly parted and his eyes dull and lifeless.  Tears coursed down Booker’s face and forgetting his earlier fears, he pulled Tom into his arms.  “I’m sorry,” he sobbed hysterically.  “Oh God Tommy I’m _so_ sorry.”

Whilst Booker held him close and wept tears of guilt and shame, Tom remained unresponsive.  Minutes turned into hours and finally, when he had no more tears left to cry, Dennis fell into an exhausted sleep.

**

An hour later, Booker opened his eyes and the first thing he realized was that Tom was no longer lying next to him.  Sitting up, he saw Hanson sitting with his back against the wall.  He had his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped protectively around his legs.   His chin rested on his knees and his vacant eyes stared out from his expressionless face.  

Getting to his hands and knees, Dennis crawled across the floor and reaching out, he touched his fingers against Hanson’s pale face.  “Tommy?” he whispered.

This time, Tom’s eyes came into focus and a lone tear trickled down his cheek.  The sight caused a physical pain in Booker’s heart and tears filled his dark eyes.  “Tommy,” he murmured again.  “Are you okay?”

Tom’s only answer was a slight nod of his head.  Relieved that he had received a response, Booker sought out the water bottle and unscrewing the cap, he handed it to Tom.  “Here,” he said softly.  “You need to keep your fluids up.”

Closing his eyes, Tom shook his head and Dennis was unsure how to proceed.  He desperately wanted to give Hanson comfort but he was wary of initiating contact in case it triggered another breakdown.  However, he felt the need to do something, to do _anything_ to show Hanson that everything was okay; to tell him that what they had done was not a violent, repulsive act like the rapes had been; that the only motivation was love and the preservation of life.

When he had made love to Tom, Booker knew he had become lost in the moment, that he had completely lost sight of everything and everyone around him except for the man beneath him.  He also knew that Tom had felt what he felt; an exhilarating spark of electricity had flowed between them when their two bodies had connected as one.  Hanson had _enjoyed_ it; he had ejaculated forcefully and vocally and their final kiss had been a mutual hunger, to taste and devour each other’s essence.  It was only when reality returned and slapped them in the face that Tom had broken down.  Now, Booker was unsure if it was because he was ashamed of what had happened or ashamed because he had found pleasure in the act.

Deciding that he needed to take things slow, Dennis recapped the bottle and moved closer until he was sitting just inches from Tom.  Placing the water bottle on the floor, he mirrored Hanson’s position.  “I had to Tommy,” he muttered, his expression full of sadness.  “He would have killed one of us if I didn’t do what he wanted.”

Tom continued to stare straight ahead.  “I know,” he mumbled.

Feeling encouraged, Booker reached out to touch Tom’s face but the young officer shrank away.  “Don’t,” he responded in a low voice.

Hurt by the rejection, Dennis moved away.  He sat silently and watched as the shadows in the room lengthened and the day slowly became night.  As the hours passed, a soft beam of light from the full moon shone into the room; illuminate both men’s faces and giving them an ethereal glow.  Time passed slowly and Booker began to think that perhaps _the man_ would leave them in peace and give them a chance to recover both mentally and physically from their ordeal.  However, his belief was short lived as the sound of the door screeching open pulled him from his thoughts.

“Gentlemen,’ Bentley greeted them and Booker squinted against the torchlight that shone directly upon them.  He could not see Edward but that did not mean that the youth was not lurking somewhere in the shadows, waiting for his master’s orders.  The light became stronger as Bentley moved towards them and Booker shielded his eyes with his hand.  Turning his head, he glanced at Hanson.  Tom’s eyes stared unblinkingly into the bright light and again, Booker feared for his partner’s mental health.

Towering over his hostages, Bentley’s mouth curled up into a cruel grin.  “I was very impressed by your performance earlier today,” he teased.  “In fact Officer Booker, I was a little jealous at how easily you made Officer Hanson come.  You must tell me your secret.”

Dennis’ hands balled into tight fists of anger.  “Screw you, you fucking psychopath,” he spat.  

“Actually,” Bentley sneered and pulling out his gun, he pointed it at Tom.  “I’m going to screw Officer Hanson.”

Fear gripped at Dennis’ heart and his blood ran cold.  “Don’t,” he whispered.  “Please, do what you want to me but don’t hurt Tommy.”

 _The man_ chuckled in amusement.  “Well that’s very noble of you Officer Booker, but I don’t think you understand.  I’m going to keep fucking your precious _Tommy_ until he comes.”

“Oh God,” Booker moaned and he dropped his head into his hands.  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Bentley laughed.  “I just like fucking pretty young men.”

Moving forward, the deranged man placed the barrel of his gun against Tom’s temple.  Hanson did not react and his eyes remained void of any emotion.  

“Stand up,” Bentley instructed quietly.

Tom got silently to his feet as Booker watched on helplessly.  Dennis had no idea if Edward lay hidden in the shadows with a gun aimed at them and he was not prepared to take the risk.  This time, Bentley unlocked the chain from the wall and he wrapped the end of it around his hand so that Tom was on a long leash.  “Good dog,” he mocked softly and tugging on the chain, he turned his back and started to walk towards the bed.  

To Booker’s horror, Tom began to walk compliantly behind Bentley.  “ _TOMMY!_ ” he yelled, in a voice filled with desperation.

The sound of Booker’s distressed voice triggered something inside Hanson’s brain and he came back to the reality of the situation with a powerful jolt.  Letting out a bloodcurdling scream, he launched himself at Bentley, knocking him to the floor.  Without hesitation, he grabbed hold of the chain and wrapped it around the stunned man’s throat.  His eyes flashed wildly as he pulled tightly on the chain, slowly cutting off Bentley’s oxygen supply.  “DIE YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!” he screamed, as spittle flew from his lips.

Bentley’s gun fired into the air and jumping to his feet, Booker ran across the room.  He pulled up short, staggering backwards as the manacle tightened around his neck, signaling that the chain had reached the end of its length.  “Tommy _NO!_ ” he shouted out, terrified that Hanson might actually keep his promise and kill _the man_.  Looking around worriedly, he searched the room for Edward, terrified that he would leap from the darkness and shoot Tom dead.  But the youth was nowhere to be seen.

Ignoring Dennis’ frantic plea, Tom continued to choke his abuser.  Bentley’s eyes bulged and his fingers grasped at the links around his neck as he tried desperately to breathe.  After a minute, a soft gurgling sound escaped his blue-tinged lips and with one final attempt to gasp in air, his head lolled to the side and he slumped to the floor.

Booker looked on in shock as Tom unwound the chain from around the dead man’s neck before searching Bentley’s pockets and pulling out a key.  Standing up, he walked over to Booker and unlocked the manacle from around his neck.  When he was free, Dennis silently took the key from Tom’s trembling hand and released him from his chains.

Staring down at Bentley’s lifeless body, Booker made a snap decision.  Turning to Tom, he placed both hands on his shoulders.  “Listen to me,” he said in a firm voice.  “Do not say _anything_ to the police.  If they don’t know which one of us killed Bentley, they don’t have a case.”

Too shocked to disagree, Tom nodded mutely.  When Dennis placed a comforting arm around his shoulders, he leaned into the protective embrace and together, the two naked men walked out into the night in search of help.


	15. We Band of Brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Tom got silently to his feet as Booker watched on helplessly.  Dennis had no idea if Edward lay hidden in the shadows with a gun aimed at them and he was not prepared to take the risk.  This time, Bentley unlocked the chain from the wall and he wrapped the end of it around his hand so that Tom was on a long leash.  “Good dog,” he mocked softly and tugging on the chain, he turned his back and started to walk towards the bed._
> 
> _To Booker’s horror, Tom began to walk compliantly behind Bentley.  “TOMMY!” he yelled, in a voice filled with desperation._
> 
> _The sound of Booker’s distressed voice triggered something inside Hanson’s brain and he came back to the reality of the situation with a powerful jolt.  Letting out a bloodcurdling scream, he launched himself at Bentley, knocking him to the floor.  Without hesitation, he grabbed hold of the chain and wrapped it around the stunned man’s throat.  His eyes flashed wildly as he pulled tightly on the chain, slowly cutting off Bentley’s oxygen supply.  “DIE YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!” he screamed, as spittle flew from his lips._
> 
> _Bentley’s gun fired into the air and jumping to his feet, Booker ran across the room.  He pulled up short, staggering backwards as the manacle tightened around his neck, signaling that the chain had reached the end of its length.  “Tommy NO!” he shouted out, terrified that Hanson might actually keep his promise and kill the man.  Looking around worriedly, he searched the room for Edward, terrified that he would leap from the darkness and shoot Tom dead.  But the youth was nowhere to be seen._
> 
> _Ignoring Dennis’ frantic plea, Tom continued to choke his abuser.  Bentley’s eyes bulged and his fingers grasped at the links around his neck as he tried desperately to breathe.  After a minute, a soft gurgling sound escaped his blue-tinged lips and with one final attempt to gasp in air, his head lolled to the side and he slumped to the floor._
> 
> _Booker looked on in shock as Tom unwound the chain from around the dead man’s neck before searching Bentley’s pockets and pulling out a key.  Standing up, he walked over to Booker and unlocked the manacle from around his neck.  When he was free, Dennis silently took the key from Tom’s trembling hand and released him from his chains._
> 
> _Staring down at Bentley’s lifeless body, Booker made a snap decision.  Turning to Tom, he placed both hands on his shoulders.  “Listen to me,” he said in a firm voice.  “Do not say anything to the police.  If they don’t know which one of us killed Bentley, they don’t have a case.”_
> 
> _Too shocked to disagree, Tom nodded mutely.  When Dennis placed a comforting arm around his shoulders, he leaned into the protective embrace and together, the two naked men walked out into the night in search of help._

**We Band of Brothers**  

Stepping out into the dark, foul smelling alleyway, the two officers shivered when the cool night air made contact with their clammy skin.  The fear that Edward would appear at any moment brandishing a gun spurred them on and holding onto each other, they stumbled down the dimly lit lane.  They felt no embarrassment at their nakedness; their only objective was to get as far away from the adult movie shop as possible and find help. 

When they staggered from the shadows and out into the bright lights of the main thoroughfare, they heard a piercing scream.  Turning their heads, the two men saw a middle-aged woman with one hand clamped over her mouth and the other pointing at them with a trembling finger.  Several other pedestrians ran over and the street soon became a chaotic scene.  The pavements filled with curious onlookers, all jostling to get a look at the bruised and naked men who had stumbled out of the darkness.  Dennis and Tom felt gentle hands guiding them down onto the curb and someone placed a coat around each of their naked shoulders, covering their humiliation.  Too dazed to speak, they sat silently and continued to hold each other whilst people bustled around them.  

The sound of sirens rent the air and within moments, flashing lights added to the confusion.  Several police officers stepped forward and cleared a space around the two bewildered men. Tom started to giggle when he heard the younger officer use the catch phrase, _“Nothing to see here, move along,”_ but his laughter soon turned to uncontrollable sobbing.  Ignoring the shocked faces around him, Dennis pulled Hanson’s head to his chest and murmured against his matted hair.  “Shh Tommy, it’s okay, we’re going to be okay.”

A paramedic stepped forward and squatting down, she gently placed a hand on Booker’s shoulder.  “Let’s get you some privacy,” she murmured softly.  The compassion on the woman’s face brought tears to Dennis’ eyes and he nodded silently.  Keeping his arm wrapped protectively around Hanson’s shoulders, he carefully helped the stunned officer to his feet.  They walked the few steps to the waiting ambulance and once inside the door slammed closed and the noises outside became muffled and distant.

After sitting the two officers together on one stretcher, the woman introduced herself.  “Hi, my name’s Meg,” she said quietly.  “Is it okay if I give the two of you a quick examination?”

Dennis could feel Tom’s body trembling beneath his touch and he gave Meg a worried smile.  “Tommy’s been through a lot and he’s traumatized.  Can’t we take him straight to the hospital?”

Meg smiled reassuringly.  “Of course, but I’d like to check your vitals first so I can radio ahead.”

“Okay,” Dennis agreed and the young paramedic set to work.  When she was satisfied with her assessment, she instructed her partner to drive to the hospital.

As the ambulance pulled away from the curb and headed towards St. Mary’s, Booker hugged Tom tightly.  “It’s over,” he whispered into Hanson’s ear.  However, little did he know that a new nightmare was about to begin.

**

Lying back against his pillow, Booker stared at the curtains that the nurse had pulled around his bed to give him some privacy.  He wondered if Hanson was in the cubicle next to him but because he had a drip inserted into his arm he could not get out of bed and look.  He had been in the hospital for hours and had undergone a scan on his kidney, blood tests and an internal exam; including a rape kit.  He felt emotionally drained knowing that the nightmare was over and he longed to take a hot shower and wash away the evidence of his ordeal. 

Pushing away the tray of food that he had been unable to eat, he sighed heavily and closed his eyes.  Within seconds, they flew back open as he heard Penhall’s loud voice reverberating around the room.

“You have to let me see him!” Doug shouted.  “This is now a police matter and I’m the goddamn police!”

The nurse muttered something inaudible and when Penhall responded, Booker’s blood ran cold.  “What do you mean he’s in the psych ward?” the officer boomed.  

Unable to stay silent any longer, Booker sat up in bed.  “PENHALL!” he yelled.

“Booker?” Penhall replied in surprise.  In his panic to see Tom, he had completely forgotten that Dennis was also in the hospital.

Seconds later the curtain around Booker’s bed yanked open and Penhall strode over to the bed.  When he caught sight of Dennis’ pale face, he drew to an abrupt halt.  “Jesus,” he murmured and his eyes shone with pity.  “Are you okay?”

Booker swallowed down the lump in his throat and he managed to nod his assent before a single tear spilled over and wound down his pallid cheek.

Pulling up a chair, Penhall sat down.  “What the hell happened?” he asked quietly.  “There are homicide detectives crawling all over the adult movie shop where you were found.”

Remembering his instructions to Hanson to keep quiet about what had happened in the final moments of their imprisonment; Booker closed his eyes and remained silent.  Frustration showed on Doug’s face and leaning in close, he spoke in a low voice.  “There’s a dead man lying in a warehouse with choke marks around his neck.  You need to admit what you did Booker.  I don’t want Tommy implicated in this, do you understand me?”

Opening his eyes, Dennis gazed up at Penhall.  “Perfectly,” he replied softly.  He was determined not to divulge that Tom had been the one to kill Bentley.  If the police did not know which man committed the murder then their case became more difficult to prove.  

However, for his plan to work he had to hope that Tom would not break under the pressure and admit that he was the one guilty of taking another man’s life.

**

After twenty-four hours under observation in the psychiatric ward, the supervising doctor released Hanson.  Homicide detectives drove both he and Booker to their respective homes, where they showered and dressed before an unmarked police car took them to the Los Angeles Police Department for questioning.  They stood silently together until the two detectives returned and with a final glance at each other, the senior officers led them away to separate interrogation rooms.

Sitting in the small room, Tom chewed nervously on the skin around his thumb.  Booker’s words echoed eerily in his mind and his heart rate increased as it dawned on him that he was about to do something that went against everything he believed in as a police officer.  By refusing to talk about what had happened to Rory Bentley, he was obstructing justice.  There was no sugarcoating it, he had killed a man and he should receive whatever punishment a judge found fit to bestow upon him.  He knew he should own up to what he had done and face the full extent of the law, but the thought of spending years in prison terrified him.  Rapes were a common part of prison life and after having experienced such unspeakable horrors at the hands of _the man_ , he was certain that he would not be able to cope with any more abuse without losing his mind completely. 

Sighing heavily, he made up his mind.  Booker’s reasoning made sense; if they stuck together and remained tightlipped about who had killed Bentley it would be more difficult for a jury to convict them.

The door opened and Detective John Seymour entered the room.  Sitting down opposite Tom, he motioned towards a tape recorder.  “This interview will be recorded.  Do you understand?”

Tom nodded silently.  Pressing the record button, Seymour spoke in a clear voice.  “Interview with Officer Thomas James Hanson conducted on the twenty-third of January 1989 at eleven ten a.m. by Detective John Stanley Seymour.  Officer Hanson, can you please confirm that you have been read your rights.”  When Tom replied in the affirmative, Seymour shuffled through his papers and leaning back in his chair, he placed his hands behind his head.  “So Tom, let’s start at the beginning...”

**

Booker watched as Detective Adamson angrily snatched up his notes and left the room.  Wiping at the sweat that had beaded on his forehead during the long interrogation, he let out an exhausted sigh.  Glancing at the clock that hung on the grey, nicotine stained wall, he saw that it was almost four o’clock in the afternoon.  During the long interview, he had spoken openly about how he had deciphered Hanson’s message and gone to the adult movie shop in search of his colleague.  He went on to describe being hit on the head and waking up chained next to Tom.  Talking about the rapes had been more difficult but he had managed to keep his voice calm whilst he recounted the details.  He had left out his encounter with Tom on purpose, as he did not think that Hanson would want the episode becoming gossip around the department.  Although he knew that he was omitting vital information that could ultimately help their case, the thought of sparing Tom any further humiliation had helped him to justify it in his mind.

Eventually, the questioning turned to what had happened to Bentley and it was then that Booker turned silent.  Adamson used every trick in the book to try to get him to talk, but Dennis had remained resolute whilst he stared impassively at the detective.  

Now he sat waiting to see if the detectives thought they had enough of a case to charge either one or both of them with manslaughter.  He hoped that Tom had not confessed to killing Bentley.  Although a long shot, he was confident that his plan would work and he wanted to spare Hanson a prison sentence that would end his career.  His plan was not fool proof and there was a strong chance that they would both be charged.   If that happened, there was a high probability that they would be sent to the county jail until their trial.  It was not a perfect plan by any means but if they were both sent to jail, at least he would be there to protect Tom.

The door opened and Detective Adamson walked back into the room.  Pulling out a pair of handcuffs, he motioned for Booker to stand up.  As he snapped on the cuffs, he gave Dennis a cold, hard stare.  “Dennis Booker, you are being charged with one count of voluntary manslaughter, if you cannot afford an attorney one will be appointed for you.  If you…”

Booker tuned out the detective’s droning voice and looking out into the corridor, he saw Tom, who was also in handcuffs, being led silently away.  Seeing the fear on Hanson’s face, he managed to relay a comforting smile whilst deep inside, the feeling of panic engulfed him.

**

Penhall, Ioki and Hoffs sat in Fuller’s office, their faces showing shock at what their superior had just explained to them.  “So they’ll both be held in the county jail until the trial,” Fuller finished in a business like tone.  

Turning away, Penhall slammed the palm of his hand against the wall.  “Dammit!” he exclaimed in frustration.  “Why is Hanson protecting him?  It’s obvious Booker is the one who killed Bentley.”

“We don’t know that Doug,” Judy replied softly.  “It could have been Tom.”

Walking over to Hoffs, Penhall placed his hands on her shoulders.  “Do you really believe that Jude?” he asked in a soft voice.  “Do you really believe that Hanson is capable of taking another man’s life by wrapping a chain around his neck and choking the breath out of him?”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Judy replied as tears filled her eyes.  “This whole case is driving me insane.  How could that man have done those things to Hanson and Booker?”

Harry pulled Hoffs into a comforting embrace.  “Don’t worry, common sense will prevail and Tom will be acquitted, you’ll see.”

“And Dennis?” Judy asked quietly.  “What will happen to him?”

Penhall let out a low growl and walking over to the door, he paused and looked back over his shoulder.  “Booker will finally get what he deserves,” he muttered angrily and turning away, he walked out of the room.

Fuller remained silent throughout his officer’s exchange of words.  Like Judy, he did not know what to believe.  All he knew was that he had two officers in custody and one of them was guilty of manslaughter.  



	16. Welcome to the Jungle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **I know very little about the US justice system or its correctional facilities, so please forgive any inaccuracies.  For those unfamiliar with the terms - CO is an acronym for correctional officer and _hack_ is what the inmates call a CO.  _New fish_ is a term for a new inmate and _Prag_ is  taken from the TV series OZ and it probably stands for prison fag.  Basically, it is what most of us would think of as a prison bitch or a man who is used by other inmates for sexual relief.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Penhall, Ioki and Hoffs sat in Fuller’s office, their faces showing shock at what their superior had just explained to them.  “So they’ll both be held in the county jail until the trial,” Fuller finished in a business like tone._
> 
> _Turning away, Penhall slammed the palm of his hand against the wall.  “Dammit!” he exclaimed in frustration.  “Why is Hanson protecting him?  It’s obvious Booker is the one who killed Bentley.”_
> 
> _“We don’t know that Doug,” Judy replied softly.  “It could have been Tom.”_
> 
> _Walking over to Hoffs, Penhall placed his hands on her shoulders.  “Do you really believe that Jude?” he asked in a soft voice.  “Do you really believe that Hanson is capable of taking another man’s life by wrapping a chain around his neck and choking the breath out of him?”_
> 
> _“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Judy replied as tears filled her eyes.  “This whole case is driving me insane.  How could that man have done those things to Hanson and Booker?”_
> 
> _Harry pulled Hoffs into a comforting embrace.  “Don’t worry, common sense will prevail and Tom will be acquitted, you’ll see.”_
> 
> _“And Dennis?” Judy asked quietly.  “What will happen to him?”_
> 
> _Penhall let out a low growl and walking over to the door, he paused and looked back over his shoulder.  “Booker will finally get what he deserves,” he muttered angrily and turning away, he walked out of the room._
> 
> _Fuller remained silent throughout his officer’s exchange of words.  Like Judy, he did not know what to believe.  All he knew was that he had two officers in custody and one of them was guilty of manslaughter._

**Welcome to the Jungle**  

Two separate police cars transported Hanson and Booker to the county jail.  Tom stood silently as the guard behind the counter processed his paperwork.  Occasionally he glanced around him, desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of Booker, but his colleague was nowhere in sight.  

When the paperwork was completed, he was ushered into a shower room by a burly guard.  “Strip,” the man instructed.

The color drained from Hanson’s face and his eyes grew wide with fear.  As his body trembled with foreboding, he remained immobile, the panic causing his limbs to freeze and his mind to go blank. 

“Are you deaf pretty boy?” Officer Matheson murmured against Hanson’s ear.  “Take off your clothes… _NOW!_ ”

Tom started to hyperventilate and he frantically looked around the room, searching for a means of escape.  _"I’m not supposed to be here,"_ his confused mind screamed.  _"It’s all a mistake, a huge mistake!"_

Becoming impatient, the _hack_ grabbed hold of Hanson and yanked his arm painfully behind his back.  “If you won’t undress yourself, we’ll do it for you,” he growled and using his walkie-talkie, he radioed for backup.

Within moments, two large guards entered the room.  It took only seconds for them to wrestle Tom to the floor and whilst two of the men held him down, the other began to undress him.  Hanson started to fight back as his fear mounted and when the man yanked down his jeans and boxers, he started to scream hysterically.  “NO!  DON’T TOUCH ME!  DON’T TOUCH ME!”

“Geez,” Matheson panted as he tried to maintain his hold on Hanson’s flailing limbs.  “What’s _his_ problem?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Officer Harrison replied.  “Matheson, sit on him so Jacobs can spread his legs.  I might as well do the cavity search whilst we’ve got him held down.”

Trent Matheson shifted his position so he was straddling Tom’s body and then he wrenched the young officer’s arms behind his back.  Hanson screamed in pain and stopped moving but when two meaty fists grabbed his ankles and spread his legs open he once again started to struggle.  “NO!” he screamed, as hot tears of fear and humiliation streamed down his cheeks.  “OH GOD DON’T!  PLEASE DON’T!”

Pulling on a plastic glove, Harrison kneeled down and pressing his face next to Tom’s, he gazed into the terrified young officer’s eyes.  “This may hurt a bit,” he laughed and sitting up, he spread open Hanson’s cheeks and rammed his finger into his anus.

Tom only stopped struggling once the ordeal was over.  All three hacks took out their metal batons before getting to their feet and they stood poised, waiting for a reprisal.  However, Tom remained motionless on the floor sobbing quietly.  “Throw him in the shower,” Harrison instructed callously.  “The other one will be coming through soon.”

Matheson and Jacobs each grabbed an arm and dragged Tom into the cubicle.  With a grin, Jacobs turned on the cold faucet and watched in delight as Tom curled into a ball under the freezing spray of water.  “Fucking cops,” he muttered and Matheson threw back his head and laughed.

**

Dressed in a white t-shirt, jeans and sneakers, Tom stood holding two sheets, a blanket, pillow, towel, toothbrush, toothpaste and grey colored soap.  He felt numb, unable to comprehend that he was actually in jail and facing a maximum sentence of eleven years for voluntary manslaughter.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder and closing his eyes, he tried to ignore it.  He was tired and all he wanted to do was escape to a happy place in his mind, to a place where there was no rape and no violence.  

“Tommy,” the voice murmured.  “Hey Tommy.”

Opening his eyes, Tom turned around and saw Booker standing behind him holding the same supplies in his arms.  Once again, tears filled his eyes and he choked back a sob.  Shifting his belongings to one arm, Dennis stepped forward and putting his free arm around Hanson, he pulled him in close.  “It’s okay, I’m here,” he whispered against Tom’s ear.

“Break it up ladies,” Jacobs warned and after speaking into his walkie, the security gate in front of them slowly opened.  “Move it,” he commanded and taking out his baton, he poked Booker in the back.  Dennis hissed in pain as the metal bar jabbed against the large bruise that covered his right side.  Nodding encouragingly at Hanson, he motioned for him to start walking.  They wound through several corridors, each segregated by a security gate until eventually they stopped outside of large communal area that was surrounded by dozens of cells spanning over three floors.  “End of the road girls,” Jacobs smirked and when the gate opened, he shoved them inside.

Booker gazed around him in horror.  “Jesus,” he muttered softly.  “They’ve put us in general population.”

As the security gate clanged closed behind them, Jacobs stepped forward.  “You lucky couple get to share a cell,” he teased.  “Second floor, cell number forty-two.  Go up and make your bunks and then you can take your time introducing yourselves.  I’m sure a lot of the inmates will be _very_ interested to hear what your occupation is.”

The two men walked slowly up the metal stairs and with each step, they felt dozens of eyes boring into them.  Once inside their cell, Booker threw his supplies onto the top bunk before taking Tom’s belongings from his arms and throwing them onto the lower bed.  Reaching out, he laid the palm of his hand against Hanson’s smooth cheek.  “Hey,” he murmured softly.  “Are you okay?”

Tom moved away and sat down on the lower bunk.  “Yeah,” he replied quietly before lifting his face and giving Booker a worried look.  “What the hell are we going to do?  When they find out who we are…”  His voice trailed off and he lowered his gaze to the floor.  “Jesus Booker, they’re going to kill us.”

Sitting down next to Hanson, Dennis took the concerned officer’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.  “We watch each other’s backs,” he replied pragmatically.  “We stick together day and night, okay?”

Lifting his head, Tom managed a small smile.  “Yeah, okay,” he replied.  “Hopefully we’ll only be in here tonight and once we go before the court tomorrow, our attorneys will get us out on bail.”

Returning the smile, Booker nodded in agreement but deep down, he was not as optimistic as Tom.  Standing up, he began to make up his bunk but he stopped when two inmates entered the cell.

“Well looky here,” the taller of the two men said in a singsong voice.  “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a couple of new fish.”  Moving forward, he reached out and ruffled Tom’s hair.  “You’re a pretty one,” he murmured.  “You’re gonna make a beautiful prag.”

Tom swatted the man’s hand away and standing up, he moved next to Dennis.  “Fuck off.”

The man grinned, revealing several missing teeth.  “You’re a feisty one.  I like that,” he laughed.  His eyes traveled over Booker’s tight, muscular body.  “Mmm, another pretty little boy.  It’s gonna be hard to choose between the two of you.”

Booker stepped forward and his eyes narrowed into slits.  “If you lay a hand on me or my friend I’ll punch your remaining teeth down your throat,” he muttered in a low, threatening voice.

A heavy scowl creased the man’s brow and he jabbed his finger hard against Dennis’ chest.  “Yeah?  You and whose army boy?”

Tom felt a surge of anger rise up inside of him and stepping forward, he stood beside Booker.  His eyes flashed dangerously and Booker’s antagonist took a step back in surprise.  “I’ve had a _really_ bad week,” he muttered softly.  “You _really_ don’t want to get on my bad side.”

The man’s eyes filled with uncertainty but to save face with his fellow inmate, who had remained silent throughout, he laughed loudly.  “Okay pretty boy, as it’s your first day I’ll give you a pass.  But I warn you, I’ll be watching you and when you least expect it… POW!”  The man slammed his fist against the palm of his left hand.  “You’ll be wishing you’d been nicer to me.”

Booker and Hanson watched silently as the two men left their cell.  Once they were alone, Tom’s bravado faltered and he sat down heavily on the bed.  “Shit,” he whispered and he buried his face in his hands.

Sitting down on the bunk, Dennis put his arm around Tom’s shoulders and tried to make light of the situation.  “Geez Hanson,” he laughed.  “You even had _me_ scared.”

Tom jumped to his feet and started pacing the floor of the small cell as his hands raked wildly through his hair.  “This isn’t funny!” he yelled.  “Jesus Christ Booker we’re in jail!  How can you sit there making fucking jokes after everything we’ve been through, after everything we’ve seen, after every…”

Tom covered his eyes with his hand and started to sob.  “I can’t do this!” he cried.  “Oh fuck!  How the hell did this happen?”

Standing up, Booker pulled Tom into his arms.  “You’ve got to be strong Tommy,” he muttered as his hand stroked Hanson’s back.  “You know what it’s like in here, any sign of weakness and—”

A loud bell rang out followed by the sound of dozens of feet walking up the metal steps.  “Count!” an authoritative voice sounded over the PA system. 

Hanson pulled away from Booker’s embrace and sniffing loudly, he wiped at his teary eyes.  Both men stepped out onto the narrow platform outside their cell and waited until a CO walked passed and called out their names.  Walking back into their cell, they continued the process of making their beds and several minutes later, another guard walked past and after peering in at them, he spoke into his radio and the security gate at the front of their cell slammed closed.

Tom climbed onto his bed and lying back against his pillow, he closed his eyes.  Booker remained standing for several more minutes before climbing onto the top bunk and mirroring Hanson, he closed his eyes and tried to block out the unnerving sounds that echoed around the jail.

**

Awakening from a light sleep, it took Dennis several moments to remember where he was.  Rubbing his hand over his face, he groaned softly.  The jail was silent except for a soft moaning that rose up from the bunk below.  Sitting up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and nimbly jumped to the floor.  

Soft moonlight shone through the small barred window and illuminated Tom’s features.  Although asleep, he wore a troubled expression and his head moved slowly from side to side.  Another soft moan escaped his lips and Dennis’ felt as though his heart would break.  Hanson was so beautiful that it would be difficult for him to remain unnoticed in a jail full of sex-starved men.  Booker knew it was common for heterosexual men to find a _mate_ whilst incarcerated and the relationships were not always consensual.  He was terrified that Hanson would become a target and all he could hope was that he would be able to protect him.

Sitting down on the thin mattress, he placed a hand on Tom’s shoulder.  Hanson’s eyes flew open in fear but he quickly relaxed when he saw Booker sitting beside him.  Wiping his hand over his mouth, he managed an uneasy smile.  “Jesus Booker, you scared the life out of me,” he whispered.

Dennis returned the smile.  “Sorry, you were moaning in your sleep,” he replied quietly.  He hesitated for a moment and his eyes filled with concern.  “Are you okay?”

The absurdity of the inquiry was too much for Tom and he let out a low, hollow laugh.  “Sure,” he replied sarcastically.  “I’ve never been better.”  Seeing the pain on Booker’s face, he let out a sigh.  “I’m fine Dennis,” he replied quietly and his expression softened.  “If it wasn’t for you, I’d be here alone and I don’t think I could have survived that.  So thanks, it means a lot.”

Booker’s heart skipped a beat and his stomach flip-flopped happily.  It was the first time that Tom had used his given name and hearing it tumble off the lips of the man that he knew he was slowly falling in love with warmed his heart.  Standing up, he smiled down at Hanson.  “Yeah well, what are friends for?” he asked softly.

 “Who'd have thought _we’d_ ever be friends?” Tom replied with a chuckle.  “Fuller will never believe it.”

Laughing lightly, Booker climbed back up to his bunk.  Lying back against his pillow, he placed his arms behind his head and gazed up at the ceiling.  It had taken unspeakable horrors, but his and Tom’s relationship had finally moved to a new phase and as difficult as it was to believe, they now had a special bond that would be difficult to break.  



	17. Trials and Tribulations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Sitting down on the thin mattress, he placed a hand on Tom’s shoulder.  Hanson’s eyes flew open in fear but he quickly relaxed when he saw Booker sitting beside him.  Wiping his hand over his mouth, he managed an uneasy smile.  “Jesus Booker, you scared the life out of me,” he whispered._
> 
> _Dennis returned the smile.  “Sorry, you were moaning in your sleep,” he replied quietly.  He hesitated for a moment and his eyes filled with concern.  “Are you okay?”_
> 
> _The absurdity of the inquiry was too much for Tom and he let out a low, hollow laugh.  “Sure,” he replied sarcastically.  “I’ve never been better.”  Seeing the pain on Booker’s face, he let out a sigh.  “I’m fine Dennis,” he replied quietly and his expression softened.  “If it wasn’t for you, I’d be here alone and I don’t think I could have survived that.  So thanks, it means a lot.”_
> 
> _Booker’s heart skipped a beat and his stomach flip-flopped happily.  It was the first time that Tom had used his given name and hearing it tumble off the lips of the man that he knew he was slowly falling in love with warmed his heart.  Standing up, he smiled down at Hanson.  “Yeah well, what are friends for?” he asked softly._
> 
> _“Who’d have thought we’d ever be friends?” Tom replied with a chuckle.  “Fuller will never believe it.”_
> 
> _Laughing lightly, Booker climbed back up to his bunk.  Lying back against his pillow, he placed his arms behind his head and gazed up at the ceiling.  It had taken unspeakable horrors, but his and Tom’s relationship had finally moved to a new phase and as difficult as it was to believe, they now had a special bond that would be difficult to break._

**Trials and Tribulations**  

Waking early the following morning, Booker carefully climbed down from his bunk so as not to disturb Tom.  After relieving his bladder, he washed his face in the small hand basin and brushed his teeth.  Pushing back his hair, he gazed at his reflection in the small mirror that hung on the wall and rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin.  He needed a shave if he was to make a good impression at the court hearing that was set for that afternoon.  It would be up to a magistrate to decide if they would be granted bail.  Booker was far less optimistic than Tom about their chances but he refused to show his skepticism.  Hanson needed something to hold on to, he needed that glimmer of hope that they would soon be free.

Sighing heavily, Booker ran his fingers through his tousled hair.  Since escaping from the warehouse, everything had happened so fast and he and Tom had not had a chance to discuss their time in captivity.  He desperately wanted to talk to Tom about what Bentley had made them do but he was too afraid of what the young officer’s reaction would be.  It was obvious that Hanson had pushed the whole incident into the deep recesses of his mind and Dennis was unsure if bringing up the topic would be a help or a hindrance to Tom’s recovery.  He was certain that Hanson had felt something and he wanted to know if there was any chance that their relationship could develop beyond friendship.  Patience had never been his virtue and his impulsiveness had been the cause of most of his troubles, including the situation he was in now.  However, this time he decided that he needed to tread carefully.  Their friendship was only just beginning and the last thing he wanted to do was scare Tom away.  

Hanson’s sleepy voice pulled him back to the present.  “What are you thinking about?” 

Turning around, Dennis smiled gently down at Tom.  “Nothing Tommy,” he replied quietly.  “You’d better get up ‘cause they’ll be doing the morning count soon.”

Ignoring Dennis’ comment, Tom pushed himself up onto his elbow and rested his head in his hand.  “Tell me,” he prompted stubbornly.  “Whatever it was, you were deep in thought.  Are you worried about today?”

Booker sighed and shook his head.  “No Tom,” he reassured.  “I was just thinking.”

Taking the hint that Dennis did not want to discuss it any further, Tom swung his legs off the bed and stood up.  Following Booker’s morning routine, he urinated, washed his face and brushed his teeth.  As he was spitting out the toothpaste, a loud buzzer reverberated around the jail and their cell door slid open.  “COUNT!”

Stepping out onto the metal platform, Tom and Dennis watched as two guards walked from cell to cell crossing off names on a clipboard.  After several minutes, a second bell sounded and the prisoners returned to their rooms.  

Picking up their towels, Booker tossed one at Hanson.  “Come on, let’s get cleaned up.”

Tom’s face visibly paled and placing the towel onto the bed, he rubbed his finger nervously over his top lip.  “No,” he replied softly.  “I don’t want to shower.”

Stepping forward, Booker laid a comforting hand on Hanson’s shoulder.  “Tommy—” he began but Tom pushed him roughly away.  

“NO!” The young officer cried, his eyes filling with panic. “I can’t Dennis! I can’t have all those men looking at me, not after… not after…” His breathing became heavy and he sat down on his bunk. Holding his head in his hands, he slowly managed to pull himself together. “Oh Jesus,” he muttered. “When will this nightmare end?”

Bentley had subjected Tom to so much humiliation that Booker could completely understand his reluctance to walk naked into a room full of inquisitive eyes.  However, if he was to survive in jail, he needed to toughen up and not show his emotions so readily.  Inmates preyed upon weakness like a lion preys upon an injured gazelle… relentlessly.  If Hanson were not careful, it would not take long for the word to spread that he was an easy target.

Leaning against the hand basin, Booker folded his arms and gave Hanson a hard stare.  “Listen Tom,” he replied in a firm voice.  “You need to walk in there and act like it’s no big deal.  If they see the fear in your eyes, you’re screwed.  I’ll do everything I can to protect you but you need to start protecting yourself as well.”

Hanson knew that Booker was right; he needed to stand up and face reality.  Whether he liked it or not, he was in jail and it was not fair that Dennis felt the responsibility of protecting him.  He was twenty-three years old and he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.  

Picking up his towel, he placed it around his shoulders and flashed Booker a genuine smile.  “As much as it pains me to say it, you’re right.”

Dennis laughed and punched Tom playfully in the arm.  “Of course I am,” he smiled smugly.  “When am I not?”

Standing up, the two officers grabbed their soap and followed the line of men walking towards the shower block.  Walking into the steamy room, Tom felt his stomach knot.  Dozens of naked men lined the walls and several couples were kissing passionately whilst their fingers intimately explored each other’s soapy flesh.  Hanson’s eyes darted back to the door but there was no sign of any guards.  

“Ignore it,” Dennis whispered and walking over to a wooden bench, he pulled off his t-shirt and boxers.  Tom looked nervously around him before doing the same.  Wolf whistles echoed around the tiled room and Hanson’s face burned scarlet.  Moving quickly forward, he found a vacant shower and turning on the faucet, he ducked his head under the warm spray of water.  Moments later, Dennis stood next to him and they showered in silence, both ignoring what was going on around them.

As he turned off the faucet, Booker felt a stinging slap to his backside and he jumped at the contact.  “Nice ass,” a low voice crooned softly against the back of his neck and turning around, he saw a heavily tattooed man grinning at him.

Ignoring the comment, Dennis pushed past the large man and picking up his towel, he began to dry off.  Within moments, Tom was at his side and Booker was pleased to see that he showed no fear.

The tattooed man nudged the man standing next to him.  “Hey Carlos, don’t they make a cute couple,” he teased.

Carlos Martínez stepped forward until he was standing only inches from Booker.  “Suck me,” he breathed against Dennis’ ear.

“In your dreams,” Dennis murmured and turning away, he picked up his clothes.  In a flash, the man knocked him to the tiled floor with a stinging blow to his chin.  Tom immediately jumped to his defense but several strong arms held him back.  Reaching down, Carlos grabbed a handful of Booker’s wet hair and pulled him to a kneeling position.  The hand then yanked his head painfully backwards so that he was gazing up into his assailant’s cruel eyes.  

“If you don’t suck me cop, I’m gonna ram my dick so far up your pretty boyfriend’s ass, I’ll be pissing through his mouth,” he growled.

Booker’s eyes stared wildly up at Tom and he saw the color drain from his friend’s face.  Sensing that his words had touched a nerve, Martínez pulled Dennis’ face towards his groin.  “If you want your boyfriend’s face to remain pretty, you’ll do what I say,” he threatened in a low voice.  “If you don’t, I’ll slice him up and fuck him so hard he’ll be screaming for mercy.”

Curious onlookers formed a circle around the two men and several started to spur Carlos on.  _“Yeah Carlos, make that pretty boy suck you… C’mon cop, let’s see your technique… Fuck his mouth Carlos!  Fuck his mouth!”_

Closing his eyes, Booker knew what he had to do.  He could not bear the thought of anyone else hurting Tom and it was not as though he had never sucked cock before. 

Opening his mouth, he placed his lips over Carlos’ erection.  After several seconds, he began to move his mouth up and down the shaft.  He shut out the sounds of Tom’s voice yelling for him to stop and the jeering of the men who were watching on in excitement.  When Martínez thrust forward, he opened up his throat to prevent himself from gagging.  Large fingers ripped at his hair and he heard Carlos moan in pleasure as he began to fuck his mouth.  “That’s it prag,” Martínez groaned.  “Suck me with that pretty mouth.”

As Carlos’ thrusting became more frantic so did the cheering from around the room.  Dennis prayed silently for it to be over but it appeared Martínez was not a premature ejaculator.  The humiliation continued for nearly ten minutes before Carlos threw back his head and roared as he shot his semen deep into Booker’s throat.  Dennis’ head remained in a vice-like grip and he had no choice but to swallow the salty fluid.  Once the inmate was satisfied, he pulled out his cock and shoved Booker backwards with such force that he landed on his ass on the wet tiles.

When the two inmates holding his arms released him, Tom rushed forward and kneeling down, he placed a comforting arm around his friend’s trembling shoulders.  Moments later, Bill Jacobs walked in and the inmates quickly scattered leaving Booker and Hanson alone.

Jacobs stared down at the two officers impassively.  “Quit fooling around and get dressed,” he barked.  “Hanson, you’ve got a visitor.”

Tom looked up at the CO.  “Who?” he asked in surprise.

A look of annoyance crossed Jacobs face.  “Do I look like your fucking secretary?  Now hurry up, if you aren’t back in you cell and dressed in five minutes your visit will be canceled.”

Hanson waited until the guard had left the shower room before helping Booker to his feet.  Gazing into Dennis’ dark eyes, he placed his hand against his pale cheek.  “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

Booker pushed Tom’s hand roughly away and pulling on his boxers, he strode from the room.

**

When Hanson returned to the cell, Booker was already dressed and lying on his bed.  He pulled on his clothes and ran his fingers through his damp hair before walking over to the bunk.  Standing beside it, he laid a hand on Dennis’ arm.  “Do you want to talk?” he asked quietly.

Pulling his arm away, Booker rolled onto his side and faced the wall.  “No,” he replied sullenly.  “I just want to be left alone.”

Sadness filled Tom’s eyes.  “This is my fault,” he murmured softly.  “You shouldn’t have done it just to protect me.”

Booker rolled over and sitting up, he jumped from the bed and shoved Hanson forcefully in the chest.  “Yeah right!” he cried, his eyes filling with anguish.  “What the hell was I supposed to do Hanson, huh?  Sit by and watch them rape you like Bentley did?  I had no fucking choice just as I won’t have a choice the next time it happens or the next.”

Shocked by the anger and resentment in Booker’s voice, Tom took a step backwards.  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled softly.  

Seeing the hurt in Tom’s dark eyes, Dennis’ anger quickly disappeared.  Sitting down on Tom’s bed, he buried his head in his hands.  “No, _I’m_ sorry,” he muttered.  “I shouldn’t have said that.  I’m just so fucking sick of this shit, you know?”

Sitting down, Tom draped an arm around Booker’s shoulders and gave them a tight squeeze.  “You don’t have to be here Dennis.  When we go before the magistrate this afternoon I’ll tell them that it was me who killed Bentley and you’ll be set free.”

Lifting his head, Dennis’ eyes widened in shock and grabbing Tom by the shoulders, he stared deep into his eyes.  “Don’t you fucking dare,” he replied through clenched teeth.  “We’re in this together and if you say it was you, I’ll tell them you’re lying.”

Tom exhaled heavily and raked his fingers through his hair in agitation.  “Jesus Dennis,” he muttered.  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing.”

Standing up, Booker gave Hanson cynical smile.  “Not really.  But hey, I guess we’ll soon find out.”  



	18. Right from Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: When Hanson returned to the cell, Booker was already dressed and lying on his bed.  He pulled on his clothes and ran his fingers through his damp hair before walking over to the bunk.  Standing beside it, he laid a hand on Dennis’ arm.  “Do you want to talk?” he asked quietly._
> 
> _Pulling his arm away, Booker rolled onto his side and faced the wall.  “No,” he replied sullenly.  “I just want to be left alone.”_
> 
> _Sadness filled Tom’s eyes.  “This is my fault,” he murmured softly.  “You shouldn’t have done it just to protect me.”_
> 
> _Booker rolled over and sitting up, he jumped from the bed and shoved Hanson forcefully in the chest.  “Yeah right!” he cried, his eyes filling with anguish.  “What the hell was I supposed to do Hanson, huh?  Sit by and watch them rape you like Bentley did?  I had no fucking choice just as I won’t have a choice the next time it happens and the next and the next.”_
> 
> _Shocked by the anger and resentment in Booker’s voice, Tom took a step backwards.  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled softly._
> 
> _Seeing the hurt in Tom’s dark eyes, Dennis’ anger quickly disappeared.  Sitting down on Tom’s bed, he buried his head in his hands.  “No, I’m sorry,” he muttered.  “I shouldn’t have said that.  I’m just so fucking sick of this shit, you know?”_
> 
> _Sitting down, Tom draped an arm around Booker’s shoulders and gave them a tight squeeze.  “You don’t have to be here Dennis.  When we go before the magistrate this afternoon I’ll tell them that it was me who killed Bentley and you’ll be set free.”_
> 
> _Lifting his head, Dennis’ eyes widened in shock and grabbing Tom by the shoulders, he stared deep into his eyes.  “Don’t you fucking dare,” he replied through clenched teeth.  “We’re in this together and if you say it was you, I’ll tell them you’re lying.”_
> 
> _Tom exhaled heavily and raked his fingers through his hair in agitation.  “Jesus Dennis,” he muttered.  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing.”_
> 
> _Standing up, Booker gave Hanson cynical smile.  “Not really.  But hey, I guess we’ll soon find out.”_

**Right from Wrong**  

Tom silently followed Trent Matheson through the maze of corridors until they finally arrived at the visitors’ room.  When the security gate slid open and Matheson stepped aside, he saw Doug sitting at a table nervously biting at his thumbnail.  He found it difficult to contain his emotions when he saw his friend look up and give him his trademark lopsided grin.  

“Geez Hanson, you look like shit,” Penhall remarked and Tom could not help but smile.  

“Yeah?” he replied as he pulled out a chair and sat down.  “Funny about that.”

Doug studied Tom for a moment and his expression softened.  “Are you okay Tommy?” he asked quietly.  “I didn’t get a chance to see you at the hospital because… well, they wouldn’t let me in the psych ward.”  

Rubbing his finger over his lips, Tom lowered his gaze.  “I’m okay I guess,” he muttered in a low voice so that Matheson could not hear their conversation.  “It helps having Booker here.”

Leaning forward in his seat, Doug’s eyes narrowed and his mouth set in a hard line.  “Why are you protecting him?” he seethed.  “You shouldn’t be in here Tommy; we all know it was Booker!  Can’t you see what’s going on?  He’s somehow manipulating you into taking the fall!”

Lifting his eyes, Tom stared back impassively at his best friend.  “Sorry Doug,” he replied softly.  “But you don’t know shit about what Dennis and I went through.  He’s not manipulating me, he’s helping me and he’s having a rough time in here.” Lowering his head, he gazed up through his long bangs.  “He could really use your support.”

Upon hearing Tom use Booker’s given name, Doug rolled his eyes.  “Jesus Christ Hanson, do you even hear yourself?  A week ago, you couldn’t bear to be in the same room as Booker and now all of a sudden he’s _Dennis_ and he’s your best friend?”

When Hanson angrily pushed back his chair and stood up, Doug immediately calmed down.  “Look,” he continued gently.  “I came here because I wanted to see you before your bail hearing.  If this goes to trial and you’re convicted, you’re looking at up to eleven years in prison.  _Eleven years_ Tom!  You’ll be thirty-four years old when you get out!  I _know_ you and Booker went through something horrible together and I understand that only he can truly understand how you feel but that doesn’t mean that you have to take the rap for him.  For God’s sake, do the right thing or you’ll have to live with the consequences for the rest of your life.”

A slow smile spread over Tom’s face.  “You’re right,” he murmured.  “I do need to do the right thing.  Thanks Doug, your pep talk really helped to clear things up in my mind.”

As Hanson walked from the room, Penhall scratched his head in confusion.  It _sounded_ like Hanson had agreed to admit that Booker had killed Bentley.  However, there was something about _the way_ he had said it that left Doug feeling extremely uneasy.

**

After a brief meeting with their attorneys, Tom and Dennis stood before Magistrate William Hughes and listened to the charges brought against them.  The two defense attorneys pleaded their cases for bail, citing the two men’s exemplary records as police officers and their work within the community.

When the attorneys had finished speaking, Tom took everyone by surprise by standing up.  “I’d like to say something,” he stated in a loud voice.

Hughes glared across the room at Tom.  “Officer Hanson, this is a bail hearing,” the magistrate rebuked in a stern voice.  “It would be in your best interest to stay silent.”

Tom stared back defiantly.  “I’ve stayed silent for long enough.  I want it to go on record that I killed Rory Bentley and that Officer Dennis Booker was not involved.”

Jumping to his feet, Booker turned towards Hanson and flashed him a furious look.  “NO!” he yelled.  “He’s lying!  It was me; I did it!”

Hughes rapped his gavel on the bench.  “Enough!” he shouted.  Narrowing his eyes, he gave the two attorneys a disapproving stare.  “Mr. Westwood, Mr. Cameron, please instruct your clients to keep quiet.”

Both attorneys bent their heads and whispered warnings to their clients.  Tom continued to gaze straight ahead, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.  Booker scowled angrily and his knuckles turned white as he gripped hold of the wooden railing in front of him.

“Bail for both defendants is denied,” Hughes instructed in a loud voice.  “A preliminary hearing is set for Wednesday February fifteenth at 9 a.m. with Judge Benedict James.”

Both Robert Westwood and Derek Cameron looked disappointed by the decision.  Tom watched silently as Booker threw him an irate glare as he was ushered from the court by Westwood.  Derek Cameron sighed heavily as he picked up his paperwork and placed it inside his briefcase.  “That was a stupid thing to do Tom,” he murmured.  “Judges and Magistrates don’t take kindly to outbursts in their courtrooms.”

Hanson shrugged his shoulders.  “It needed to be said,” he replied wearily.  “The lie has gone on too long.”

Cameron studied Tom’s face carefully.  “Does this mean that you want to plead guilty?” he asked in a quiet voice.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Tom weighed up his options.  If he entered a plea of guilty he faced two options, outright acquittal or a prison sentence.  The main motivation for him _pleading out_ was Booker.  If he pleaded guilty, Dennis would no longer be involved and he could return to the Jump Street program and carry on with his life.  He knew Booker would be furious but that was a small price to pay for doing what was right.  On the other hand, even if he stuck to Dennis’ original plan there were no guarantees.  They could either both be cleared of voluntary manslaughter or one or both could be found guilty and sent to prison. 

Opening his eyes, he felt a huge burden lift from his shoulders and he smiled at his attorney.  “I’m going to plead guilty,” he murmured softly.  “I want Dennis to go free.”

Putting his hand on Tom’s shoulder, Derek gave it a firm squeeze.  “He’ll have to stay in jail until the preliminary hearing and there are no guarantees; it all depends on how he pleads.”

A slow smile spread over Hanson’s lips.  “Don’t worry Derek,” he replied firmly.  “I’ll make sure that he does what’s right.

**

Booker glared at Tom as they sat shackled in the back of a police van.  Their journey was slow due to a burst water main closing half of the main street and looking at Dennis’ furious expression, Tom wished for the drive to end so he could explain his reasons.  However, Booker had other ideas and without waiting for privacy, he launched into a verbal attack.  “What the fuck were you thinking?” he yelled, his eyes blazing angrily.  “You promised me!  You fucking _promised_ me!”

Blake Harrison turned in his seat and looked through the wire mesh that separated him from his two charges.  “Keep it down Booker,” he warned in a low voice.  “You don’t want me to come back there.”

Leaning forward across the van, Tom’s chains clinked as he laid his hands on Dennis’ knees.  “I _had_ to,” he replied softly and seeing that Booker was once again about to give him a mouthful of abuse, he shot his friend a pleading look.  “Don’t,” he whispered. “If you want to fight with me, leave it until we get back or Harrison will give you a beating.”

Although enraged by Hanson’s declaration in court, Booker knew that it would be stupid to cause a scene in front of the hacks.  Sitting back in his seat, he closed his eyes so that he would not have to look at the man who had betrayed him.

**

Having spent an uncomfortable half hour in silence, Tom and Dennis arrived back at the jail.  Harrison performed a thorough body search before escorting them back to general population.  “No bickering ladies,” the hack smirked and walking away, he chuckled to himself in amusement.

Ignoring the comment, Tom entered their cell and sat down on his bunk.   Closing his eyes, he pressed his fingers against his temples as he felt the beginnings of a headache starting to surface.  “It was the right thing to do,” he mumbled wearily.  “You shouldn’t be in here, _you_ didn’t do anything wrong.”

Seeing Tom’s pale face, Dennis let out a sigh and sat down on the lower bunk.  “You didn’t do anything wrong either,” he muttered.  “Bentley was about to rape you and you had every right to defend yourself.”

Feeling tired and emotional, Tom lowered his head as tears filled his eyes.  “I _wanted_ him dead Dennis,” he whispered miserably.  “I could have stopped and grabbed the gun but I didn’t… I wanted him dead.”

Placing his arm around Hanson, Booker pulled him close.  “I wanted him dead too,” he murmured into Tom’s hair.  “I couldn’t bear to see him hurt you again and if you hadn’t killed him, I would have, so that makes me just as guilty as you.  If you plead out, then I’ll do the same.”

Hanson choked back a sob.  “No,” he whispered in despair.  “You can’t Dennis, it’s not right.”

Booker lifted Tom’s tear stained face and as he gazed deep into his sad dark eyes, time stood still.   Feeling Tom’s breath against his skin, he bit down on his lower lip.  The sound of heavy breathing put him into a trance and leaning forward, he brushed his lips against Tom’s full pout.  He heard Hanson’s sharp intake of breath and moments later, he felt the soft protruding flesh pressing against his mouth as Tom kissed him back.  Moaning softly, he parted Hanson’s lips with his tongue and slowly explored his mouth.  His cock hardened when he felt Tom’s tongue dancing against his own and he deepened the kiss.  The fingers of his left hand tangled in the back of Hanson’s hair whilst his right hand squeezed at his thigh.  When Tom groaned excitedly into his mouth, Booker’s arousal intensified.  He forgot that they were in jail… he forgot that they were not alone… all he wanted was to feel Tom beneath him, to explore his body and to hear his cries of pleasure.

Without breaking the kiss, he pushed Hanson back onto the mattress and lay down on top of him.  He could feel a hardness pushing against him and he began to grind his cock against the mound.  Tom elicited a loud moan and thrusting upwards, he increased the friction between them.  Their tongues clashed violently and they hungrily devoured each other’s taste as they frantically sought release.  

Within minutes, Booker felt his orgasm rising and dropping his head, he bit down hard on the tender flesh between Tom’s neck and shoulder as his climax hit.  The sharp pain pushed Hanson over the edge and crying out, he ejaculated forcefully into his boxers.  Feeling Tom’s body trembling beneath him, Dennis sought out his hot, willing mouth and kissed him passionately.  After several minutes, he lifted his head and smiled.  Remembering Tom’s panic last time, he reached out and gently brushed his hair back from his face.  “Are you okay,” he asked quietly.

Tom gazed back with eyes filled with confusion.  “I…” he began and raking his fingers through his hair, he smiled awkwardly.  “Shit,” he laughed softly.  “I haven’t had _that_ happen since I was a teenager.”

Rolling onto the mattress, Booker looked down at the wet patch on Tom’s jeans and chuckled loudly.  “Me neither,” he replied in amusement as he studied the damp stain covering his own crotch.  “I guess we both needed the release.”

Sitting up, Tom’s expression hardened.  “Is that all it was?” he asked in an injured tone.  “You needed to get off and I was the most convenient person to give you what you _needed?_ ”  Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood up and flashed Dennis an angry look.  “Well fuck you Booker, you can go to hell!”

Dennis sat up so quickly that he banged his head on the upper bunk.  Crying out, he rubbed at his head in frustration as he scrambled from the bed.  “That’s not what I meant!” he exclaimed hurriedly.  Moving forward, he took hold of Tom’s hand and gazed into his furious face.  “Jesus Hanson,” he murmured softly.  “If you haven’t worked out by now how I feel about you then you must be dumber than I thought.  It was a throwaway line, that’s all.  I get horny just looking at you, so feeling you pushing your body against me... well…”  A soft blush stained his cheeks as he pointed to the stain on his denims.  “ _This_ is what happens.”

Tom’s face also flushed pink and grinning with embarrassment, he rubbed his fingers over his top lip.  “Fuck,” he muttered softly.  “What the hell does this mean?”

Stepping forward, Booker kissed him tenderly.  “I know what I want it to mean,” he whispered against Hanson’s lips.  “But I don’t want to pressure you Tommy.  We can forget it ever happened or—”

“But it did happen,” Tom replied quietly, his dark eyes full of uncertainty.  Stepping away from Dennis, he walked over to his bed and sat down.  “We slept together Booker,” he muttered in a faint voice.  “I know Bentley made us do it but we _slept_ together.  I can’t forget that.”

It was the first time Tom had mentioned their coupling and Booker took a deep, calming breath before sitting down on the bunk beside his friend.  “ _I_ don’t want to forget it,” he admitted quietly.  He hesitated for a moment before cupping Hanson’s face in his hand.  “Yes, Bentley made us do it but I won’t lie to you Tommy, I enjoyed it.  I’ve been dreaming of making love to you since I first met you.”

The pink blush on Tom’s cheeks deepened and his lip curled into a self-conscious smile.  “I enjoyed it too,” he confessed.  “I mean, I was terrified at first but…”  His finger rubbed furiously at his lip and his voice dropped to a whisper.  “It was different with you.”

Placing his hand at the back of Tom’s neck, Booker pulled him close and kissed him lovingly.  “Do you want to take this further?” he murmured softly.

Tom’s eyes filled with apprehension and he pulled away from Booker’s embrace and stood up.  “I don’t know,” he replied honestly.  “I think I need time to get my head around it.”

Although disappointed with Tom’s answer, Booker gave an understanding smile.  “Take your time,” he replied.  “And whatever you decide, we’ll stay friends, okay?”

Tom let out a relieved sigh.  “Okay,” he answered quietly.  That he might actually be falling for Booker was somewhat disconcerting, however, deep inside, he also felt a shiver of excitement at the thought of what might lie ahead.  



	19. Entropy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Sitting up, Tom’s expression hardened.  “Is that all it was?” he asked in an injured tone.  “You needed to get off and I was the most convenient person to give you what you needed?”  Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood up and flashed Dennis an angry look.  “Well fuck you Booker, you can go to hell!”_
> 
> _Dennis sat up so quickly that he banged his head on the upper bunk.  Crying out, he rubbed at his head in frustration as he scrambled from the bed.  “That’s not what I meant!” he exclaimed hurriedly.  Moving forward, he took hold of Tom’s hand and gazed into his furious face.  “Jesus Hanson,” he murmured softly.  “If you haven’t worked out by now how I feel about you then you must be dumber than I thought.  It was a throwaway line, that’s all.  I get horny just looking at you, so feeling you pushing your body against me... well…”  A soft blush stained his cheeks as he pointed to the stain on his denims.  “This is what happens.”_
> 
> _Tom’s face also flushed pink and grinning with embarrassment, he rubbed his fingers over his top lip.  “Fuck,” he muttered softly.  “What the hell does this mean?”_
> 
> _Stepping forward, Booker kissed him tenderly.  “I know what I want it to mean,” he whispered against Hanson’s lips.  “But I don’t want to pressure you Tommy.  We can forget it ever happened or—”_
> 
> _“But it did happen,” Tom replied quietly, his dark eyes full of uncertainty.  Stepping away from Dennis, he walked over to his bed and sat down.  “We slept together Booker,” he muttered in a faint voice.  “I know Bentley made us do it but we slept together.  I can’t forget that.”_
> 
> _It was the first time Tom had mentioned their coupling and Booker took a deep, calming breath before sitting down on the bunk beside his friend.  “I don’t want to forget it,” he admitted quietly.  He hesitated for a moment before cupping Hanson’s face in his hand.  “Yes, Bentley made us do it but I won’t lie to you Tommy, I enjoyed it.  I’ve been dreaming of making love to you since I first met you.”_
> 
> _The pink blush on Tom’s cheeks deepened and his lip curled into a self-conscious smile.  “I enjoyed it too,” he confessed.  “I mean, I was terrified at first but…”  His finger rubbed furiously at his lip and his voice dropped to a whisper.  “It was different with you.”_
> 
> _Placing his hand at the back of Tom’s neck, Booker pulled him close and kissed him lovingly.  “Do you want to take this further?” he murmured softly._
> 
> _Tom’s eyes filled with apprehension and he pulled away from Booker’s embrace and stood up.  “I don’t know,” he replied honestly.  “I think I need time to get my head around it.”_
> 
> _Although disappointed with Tom’s answer, Booker gave an understanding smile.  “Take your time,” he replied.  “And whatever you decide, we’ll stay friends, okay?”_
> 
> _Tom let out a relieved sigh.  “Okay,” he answered quietly.  That he might actually be falling for Booker was somewhat disconcerting, however, deep inside, he also felt a shiver of excitement at the thought of what might lie ahead._

**Entropy**  

Over the course of the next few days, Dennis and Tom tried to assimilate into life behind bars.  Shower time was the worst and every morning their hearts filled with fear as they stripped naked in front of the other inmates.  However, despite the wolf whistles and suggestive comments, neither had suffered a physical attack since Carlos had forced Dennis to perform oral sex.   Not that they had become complacent, they were constantly looking over their shoulders waiting for the attack that they knew would eventually happen.

Since arriving in jail, Tom had received a visit every day from one or all of his friends from Jump Street; Booker however, had received none.  His parents and sister had visited him once but his mother had become so upset that Dennis had instructed them not to come again.  He felt hurt that even his superior officer had deserted him in his time of need but he knew that it was because they all thought Tom was covering for him.  However, even though he understood the reasoning, it did not lessen the pain in his heart and he found himself once again pushing the _real_ Dennis Booker into the background and reasserting the tough _I don’t give a damn_ façade to the fore.  Since his ordeal with Tom, he had managed to reveal his softer side without feeling any of the insecurities that he usually did when letting his guard down.  He knew it was because of his strong feelings for Hanson but even that could not prevent him from again building up a protective wall against the pain of abandonment.  It hurt to know that the people he worked with cared so little about him and it was easier to wear the mask of bravado and pretend that he did not give a fuck.

Lying on his bunk, he stared blankly at the book he had borrowed from the library cart.  Blake Harrison had called Tom to the visitors’ room and Dennis knew it would be at least an hour before he returned.  Although he was confident that he could hold his own in a fight, he felt vulnerable when he was on his own.  He had played down the attack in the shower room for Hanson’s sake but the act had left him feeling shaken and deeply ashamed.  To know that Tom had witnessed him performing oral sex against his will was as emotionally damaging as the rapes had been.  He so desperately wanted a relationship with Tom but he was beginning to wonder if it could ever happen after everything they had witnessed.  

So lost in his thoughts, he did not hear soft footsteps enter the cell until it was too late.  A hand clamped over his mouth and several strong arms prevented him from struggling.  “Hey beautiful,” Martínez crooned softly.  “Did you miss me?”

Dennis’ eyes bulged with fear as the men pulled him from the top bunk and threw him onto Tom’s bed.  He felt a sharp pain against his neck and he immediately stopped moving.  

Martínez squatted down on the floor and lovingly brushed Booker’s hair from his eyes.  “Smart boy,” he murmured and he trailed his finger down Dennis’ cheek.  “One nod from me and my friend Morgan will slice your throat open.  So I want you to lie still and be a good little puppy, okay?”

Staring wildly around him, Booker tried silently to plead with one of the men in the room to come to his aid.  However, when he saw who had accompanied Martínez into his cell, he knew he had no hope of someone coming to his assistance.  Peter _Mad Dog_ Morgan was awaiting trial for the rape of three men and Timothy Holland was currently on trial for the rape and murder of a teenager.  Several other men stood at the cell door, keeping watch for any sign of a hack.  But Dennis knew that even if a CO became suspicious, it was doubtful that they would intervene.  Rapes happened on a daily basis within the jail and the hacks seemed willing to turn a blind eye.

Standing up, Martínez moved down to the end of the bed and removed Booker’s shoes and socks.  Sitting down on the mattress, he cupped Dennis’ crotch in his hand and gave it a squeeze.  “Mmm,” he murmured as his tongue darted out and licked his full lips.  “I bet pretty Tommy enjoys the feeling of you ramming your cock up his ass.  I wonder if he’d enjoy _me_ fucking him too.”

A mixture of humiliation and fury filled Dennis’ eyes and he struggled to speak against the palm of Morgan’s hand.  Carlos nodded for the tattooed man to release his hold and Booker took in several deep breaths.  “Fuck you, you pervert,” he spat.  “If you lay a hand on Hanson I’ll—”

Morgan slammed his hand back over Booker’s mouth whilst Martínez laughed hysterically.  “Oh my beautiful puppy, if I want to play with Tommy there’s nothing you can do about it.  But for now, I want to play with _you_.  I want to hear you howl and then, when I’m done, I’ll think about what I can do to your precious Tom.”

Dennis cried out against Morgan’s hand as Carlos slowly removed his jeans and boxers.  Tears filled his eyes as he felt callused fingers stroking at his cock and he screwed them closed so as not to have to witness the delight on his abuser’s face.  The sharp point of the shank pressed painfully against his neck as strong hands bent up his knees and spread open his legs.  Moments later, he smelled foul breath against his face and tears of shame leaked from his eyes as Martínez entered him.  Pain ripped through his body and he let out a muffled cry.  He could hear far away laughter and a loud grunting as Carlos began to pump in and out of his unprepared anus.  He flinched as his rapist tugged at his cock and he silently begged his body not to react to the assault.   Carlos’ breathing became more frenzied and his pace quickened.  As he slammed his cock in and out of Booker’s body, he became vocal.  “Howl for me puppy,” he demanded in a low, wheezy voice.  “I wanna hear you bark.”

Morgan removed his hand but Dennis bit down hard on his lower lip and remained silent.  The men in the room laughed at his stubbornness but Morgan jammed the shank deeper into the flesh of Booker’s neck and blood started to trail down his olive skin.  “Bark,” he growled angrily but Dennis refused to comply.  He let out a choking sob but that was the only sound he made.  Moments later, Carlos threw back his head and let out a yell of delight as he ejaculated deep inside Booker’s body.  Somebody clapped and Dennis turned his face to the wall in humiliation.  He remained motionless as Martínez slowly withdrew from his body and stood up.  Soft voices echoed around the room and he flinched when he felt a hand lovingly ruffle his hair.  “Good puppy,” Carlos whispered against his ear.  “But next time, I wanna hear you bark… _woof!_ ”

Turning his body away, Dennis’ drew his knees up to his chest and waited until he heard the men leave.  When he was alone, he rolled over and sat up.  Looking down at the bed, he could see semen and blood staining the top blanket.  He slowly struggled to his feet and walked over to the small hand basin.  He avoided looking in the mirror and reaching down, he pulled off a large wad of toilet paper.  After soaking it under the tap, he gently cleaned himself up.  Tossing the bloody paper into the toilet, he flushed the chain and limped over to the bed.  He quickly dressed before swapping his blanket with the one stained with his blood and Carlos’ semen.  Once satisfied that there was no evidence of his assault, he climbed up onto his bunk and lying down, he covered his eyes with his arm and tried to block out the screaming in his head.

**

Walking back towards his cell, Hanson thought back over his conversation with Penhall and Ioki.  He had begged with both officers to arrange a time to visit with Booker but both men had flatly refused.  Tom was becoming increasingly aware that Dennis was withdrawing into himself and that the kind, sensitive man he had come to know was again slowly becoming consumed by the arrogant alter ego that Booker used as a front.  He understood that it was partly because any sign of weakness within jail was a sure fire way of becoming a target for bullies but he also knew it was Booker’s way of concealing the hurt he felt at not receiving any visitors.  Hanson had tried to explain to Doug and Harry that Booker’s mental health was beginning to suffer because he felt ostracized by his peers but neither man showed any concern for Dennis’ welfare.  They believed that Booker deserved to be behind bars whereas Hanson did not.

Entering the small room, he saw Booker lying on the bed with his arm thrown over his face.  Moving forward, he placed his hand on his friend’s arm.  He pulled back in surprise when Booker violently jerked from his touch.  “Hey,” he said in a soft voice as he tried to read the expression in Dennis’ eyes.  “What’s wrong?”

Sitting up, Booker jumped lightly from the bed.  “Nothing,” he replied in a flat voice.  “You startled me, that’s all.”  Moving across the room, he gazed at his reflection in the mirror.  “So, how was your visit?” he asked, unable to conceal the bitterness in his voice.

Tom knew he needed to tread warily.  “Okay,” he answered softly.  “They asked after you.”

Booker stared at Tom’s reflection in the mirror.  “Really?” he asked sullenly.  “If they were so worried about me you’d think they’d at least bother to visit.”

Stepping forward, Hanson laid a hand on Dennis’ shoulder.  “Booker—” he began but Dennis quickly shrugged him off.

“Don’t,” he snapped and turning around, he pushed past Tom and stood by his bed.  “I don’t need you to make excuses for them.  They think _I_ manipulated you, they think I killed Bentley.  Well I don’t give a flying _FUCK_ what they think, they can all go to hell!”

A feeling of shame washed over Tom and he lowered his eyes.  “I told them it was me but they don’t believe it,” he replied in a quiet voice.  “I don’t know what else to do.”

Dennis’ eyes flashed with anger.  “Yeah?” he spat crossly.  “Well I guess you haven’t tried hard enough.”  Booker knew his words had hurt Hanson but he ignored his friend’s mortified expression and turning quickly on his heel, he strode from the room.

**

Tom remained in their cell until Dennis returned several hours later.  By his sweaty appearance, he guessed that Booker had been to the gym.  Putting down his book, he stood up and approached his colleague.  He refrained from touching him, as he was not sure what Dennis’ mood was and he had no desire to be punched in the face.   Instead, he spoke in a soft, calm voice.  “Can we talk?”

Picking up his towel, Dennis mopped his sweaty brow.  “We’re stuck in a cell together,” he replied curtly.  “I can’t really stop you.”

Sighing heavily, Tom turned away.  “Forget it,” he murmured quietly.  “I can’t reason with you when you’re like this.”

Spinning around, Booker glared angrily at Tom.  “Like what Hanson?” he snarled.  “Can you blame me for being pissed off?  I’m trying my hardest to protect you, to protect myself and that’s still not good enough for the people I work with.   You’re the fucking saint and I’m the fucking devil.  I risked _my_ life coming to find you and I could have very easily walked away when you killed Bentley but I didn’t.  I covered for you because I wanted to protect you and now I’m starting to believe that I made a big fucking mistake!  If we go to trial I’ll probably be found guilty and you’ll probably go free!  No one will believe that Tommy Hanson is capable of murder… _NOBODY!_   I wish to God I’d left you there… I wish I’d never… I wish I’d…  I wish…”  A loud sob escaped his lips and crouching down on the floor, he covered his face in his hands and burst into tears.

Tom stared down at Booker in bewilderment.  The ferocity of his attack left him stunned and he wondered what had brought it on.  He knew that Booker felt abandoned by his colleagues but he had not expected it to hurt him to the extent that it obviously had.  However, he had an uneasy feeling that there was more to it than that.  Squatting down, he laid a gentle hand on Dennis’ arm.  “Did something happen when I was gone,” he asked quietly.

Lifting his head, Dennis’ expression was detached.  “No,” he replied impassively.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said.”  Wiping his hand across his tear stained face, he gave Tom an insincere smile.  “I’m fine, just forget it.”

Hanson watched silently as his friend stood up and exited the cell.  


 


	20. Would You Lie with Me and Just Forget the World?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Tom remained in their cell until Dennis returned several hours later.  By his sweaty appearance, he guessed that Booker had been to the gym.  Putting down his book, he stood up and approached his colleague.  He refrained from touching him, as he was not sure what Dennis’ mood was and he had no desire to be punched in the face.   Instead, he spoke in a soft, calm voice.  “Can we talk?”_
> 
> _Picking up his towel, Dennis mopped his sweaty brow.  “We’re stuck in a cell together,” he replied curtly.  “I can’t really stop you.”_
> 
> _Sighing heavily, Tom turned away.  “Forget it,” he murmured quietly.  “I can’t reason with you when you’re like this.”_
> 
> _Spinning around, Booker glared angrily at Tom.  “Like what Hanson?” he snarled.  “Can you blame me for being pissed off?  I’m trying my hardest to protect you, to protect myself and that’s still not good enough for the people I work with.   You’re the fucking saint and I’m the fucking devil.  I risked my life coming to find you and I could have very easily walked away when you killed Bentley but I didn’t.  I covered for you because I wanted to protect you and now I’m starting to believe that I made a big fucking mistake!  If we go to trial I’ll probably be found guilty and you’ll probably go free!  No one will believe that Tommy Hanson is capable of murder… NOBODY!  I wish to God I’d left you there… I wish I’d never… I wish I’d…  I wish…”  A loud sob escaped his lips and crouching down on the floor, he covered his face in his hands and burst into tears._
> 
> _Tom stared down at Booker in bewilderment.  The ferocity of his attack left him stunned and he wondered what had brought it on.  He knew that Booker felt abandoned by his colleagues but he had not expected it to hurt him to the extent that it obviously had.  However, he had an uneasy feeling that there was more to it than that.  Squatting down, he laid a gentle hand on Dennis’ arm.  “Did something happen when I was gone,” he asked quietly._
> 
> _Lifting his head, Dennis’ expression was detached.  “No,” he replied impassively.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said.”  Wiping his hand across his tear stained face, he gave Tom an insincere smile.  “I’m fine, just forget it.”_
> 
> _Hanson watched silently as his friend stood up and exited the cell._

**Would You Lie with Me and Just Forget the World?**  

Tom sat across the table from Booker listening to Carlos Martínez and his cohorts softly yelping and barking in between fits of laughter.  He saw his friend’s face flush scarlet and he wondered what it all meant.  When Dennis stood up and scraped his uneaten meal into the trash, Hanson pushed back his chair and followed suit.  He walked silently behind Dennis and when they entered their cell, he stood in the middle of the room and watched as his friend climbed onto his bunk and turned to face the wall.  Tom felt sick to his stomach, it was obvious that something had happened between Martínez and Dennis and he feared the worst.  He felt completely helpless and he was terrified that Booker would withdraw completely if the abuse continued.  If that happened, it would be easy for others to take advantage of him and he would slowly spiral into a pit of depression.  Hanson was all too aware what it was like; he had detached himself from the abuse during his time in captivity because not thinking about what was happening was easier than fighting against it.  However, by accepting his fate he had also accepted defeat and Tom knew that it was that thought that had made him snap during his final encounter with Bentley.  He had always been doggedly determined and there was no way in hell that he was going to allow Bentley to break him completely.  Now, he could only hope that Booker had the same self worth and tenacity.

Trent Matheson’s voice came over the PA.   “COUNT!”  When Dennis remained motionless, Tom moved forward and placed a hand on his friend’s ankle.  “C’mon Dennis,” he coaxed softly.

He watched as Booker climbed silently from the bed and he was shocked at how pale his face was.  It was then that he made the decision not to leave his side, even for visits with his friends.  Dennis had protected him during their time in the warehouse and it was time for him to return the favor.

When their cell door clanged closed, the two officers undressed without speaking.  Tom wanted desperately to reach out to Booker but he was afraid of pushing him further away.  He stood and watched as his friend climbed into bed and pulled the covers up over his head.  Sighing softly, he picked up his book and lay down on top of the covers.  They still had a couple of hours until lights out and he needed something to help him escape from the horrors of life behind bars.

**

The sound of running water jarred Tom out of a light sleep.  Rubbing at his eyes, he stared out into the dimness of their small cell.  He could see Booker’s outline standing next to the small hand basin, his body bent forward as he splashed water onto his face.  Throwing back his blanket, Tom climbed out of bed and padded silently across the floor.  He hesitated for a moment before placing a hand on Dennis’ naked shoulder.  “Is everything okay?” he asked in a hushed tone.  

Booker flinched beneath the soft touch and lifting his head, he gazed into the mirror at Tom’s reflection.  “Yeah,” he replied quietly, his eyes full of pain.  “I’m fine.  Go back to sleep.”

Tom exhaled heavily.  “Don’t bullshit me Dennis,” he whispered through gritted teeth.  “Talk to me.”  When Booker turned around, Hanson gasped in shock at the haunted look in his dark eyes.  “Jesus Christ Booker, you’re scaring me,” he murmured in a worried voice.  “What the hell happened?”

Lowering is eyes, Dennis fixed his stare on the chipped concrete floor.  “Martínez raped me,” he replied in a flat voice.

Hanson felt as though the room was spinning and reaching out, he steadied himself against the wall.  “Oh God,” he whispered in an anguished voice and his eyes filled with tears.  “Oh God Dennis, I’m so sorry.”  The horror of the truth hit him hard.  The only time Martínez could have attacked Booker was whilst he was alone and the only time he was alone was when Tom was receiving a visit from one of his colleagues; Dennis' rape was his fault.

Booker lifted his gaze and gave Hanson a small, sad smile.  “Don’t beat yourself up about it Tommy,” he murmured softly.  “He would have done it if you were here or not.”

Moving forward, Tom wrapped his arms around Dennis’ waist and held him close.  He felt Booker collapse against him and hot tears trickled down his skin as his friend wept silently against his chest.  As he ran his fingers through Booker’s tousled hair, he heard the young officer give in to his grief and begin to sob uncontrollably.  He tightened his embrace and murmured soft, comforting words against Dennis' ear and all the while, his own heart was breaking.  

Fifteen minutes passed before Booker finally pulled away and swiped angrily at his watery eyes.  When he had composed himself, Tom took his hand and led him over to the lower bunk.  Climbing onto the mattress, he tugged gently at Dennis’ arm until he was lying down next to him.  Rolling onto his side, he pulled Booker protectively against him and closed his eyes.  From now until they gained their release he would not leave his friend alone, not even for a moment.  They would stand united and protect each other from the horrors of life in jail and if they could not do that, they would endure the worst whilst standing by each other’s side.

** 

Tom woke abruptly when he felt Booker’s body twitching violently in his arms.  Propping himself up on his elbow, his expression became serious as he studied Booker’s furrowed brow.  Reaching out, he gently brushed the unruly hair from his Dennis’ face.  “Hey Dennis,” he whispered softly against his ear.  “Wake up, you’re having a nightmare.”

Booker’s eyes flew open and he gasped loudly as panic constricted his chest.  Seeing Tom’s worried face gazing down at him, he closed his eyes and tried to relax.  After several minutes, he opened his eyes and let out a soft sigh.  “Sorry, did I wake you?”

Tracing his finger lightly down Booker’s cheek, Tom smiled and shook his head.  “I was only dozing,” he lied.  “It’s still early, go back to sleep.”

Rolling onto his side Dennis pushed his lower lip into a soft pout.  “When I close my eyes, I see _him_ ,” he murmured quietly.  “I want to see _you_.”  He longed to replace the sordid memories of his rape with something beautiful and for Dennis, there was nothing more beautiful than Tom Hanson.

Tom felt an awakening within his groin and his breathing became shallow.  Sensing that Hanson was becoming aroused, Booker leaned in close and brushed his lips against the young officer’s ear.  “Can I touch you?” he breathed.  

A bolt of electricity shot through Tom’s body and he drew in a sharp intake of air.  He saw the longing in Dennis’ eyes and he nodded his head.  Lying back against the pillow, he held his breath as Dennis brushed his lips against his ear.  When long fingers gently stroked his cock through his boxers, he let out a low moan of pleasure and his hips lifted off the mattress.  

“God you’re beautiful,” Booker groaned as his fingers lightly played over Tom’s hardening shaft.

Wanting to feel the full touch of Dennis’ fingers, Tom boldly pulled down his boxers.  Booker’s eyes widened in delight and he ran his tongue over his lips.  “Oh Jesus,” he moaned as his eyes traveled along the length of Tom’s hardening cock.  “Oh Tommy.”

Tom bent up his knees and opened his legs, a clear invitation for Booker to play with his testicles.  Smiling with delight, Dennis let his fingers travel down and he gently tugged at Tom’s balls before again running his fingers over the erect shaft.  He rubbed his thumb over the weeping slit and lowering his head, he brushed his lips against Tom’s open mouth.  “Do you want me to jerk you off?” he breathed softly and he was immediately rewarded by Hanson’s loud moan.  “Was that a yes?’ he teased.

“Yesss!” Tom hissed and his body writhed in anticipation.  “Make me come.”

Dennis nipped and sucked at the flesh of Tom’s earlobe whilst moving his fingers up and down the length of his cock.  “Talk to me,” he murmured.  “Tell me what you like.”

Tom’s body squirmed beneath Booker’s touch and his fingers grasped frantically at the blanket beneath him.  “FASTER!” he panted loudly.  “Oh fuck… it feels so good… Oh God… Oh Dennis!”

Trailing his tongue down the column of Tom’s neck, Booker continued down until he could suck on the nub of Hanson’s nipple.  “Do you like that baby?” he groaned and he nipped at the flesh with his teeth.  “Do you want me to pull you harder?”

“Harder,” Tom gasped and his hips thrust upward off the mattress.  “Harder… harder… HARDER!”

Booker continued to suck at the hard nub as he pumped his fist rapidly over Tom’s leaking cock.  Moments later, he felt warm fluid flowing over his fingers and Hanson cried out as the thrill of his orgasm burst through his loins.  Reaching down, it only took Dennis two swift tugs to bring about his own release and he bit the taut flesh of Tom’s chest, causing him to yelp in surprise.  He grinned at the sound and lifting his head, he gazed into Tom’s stunned eyes.  Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips against Hanson’s full pout and kissed him tenderly.  He moaned when he felt Tom’s tongue exploring his mouth as their kiss deepened.  After several minutes, he reluctantly pulled away and smiled down at his lover.  “Thank you,” he murmured quietly.

Hanson stared back quizzically.  “For what?” he asked in a soft voice.

Booker’s dark eyes filled with tears.  “For making me forget,” he whispered.  “I know you don’t feel the same way about me as I do about you.”

Tom smiled awkwardly.  “To be honest Booker, I don’t know _what_ I feel,” he replied truthfully.  “I’ve never had these sorts of feelings for a man before and I don’t know how far I’m prepared to go.”

Rolling onto his back, Dennis let out a loud sigh.  “I know,” he answered sadly.  “I won’t pressure you Tommy but I want you to know that _my_ feelings for you are genuine, no matter what Penhall and the others say.”

Pulling up his boxers, Hanson rolled onto his side and placed his arm around Booker’s waist.  “I know,” he murmured, unsure of what else to say.  He _did_ have feelings for Dennis but he did not know if he was just seeking comfort to help him through the long days and nights inside the L.A. jail or if he was in fact, beginning to fall in love with him.

**

Carlos Martínez lay on his bed listening to the soft breathing of his sleeping cellmate.  His fingers played lightly over his growing erection and he groaned softly as Booker’s face flashed into his mind.  He knew the young cop would do anything to protect Hanson and that opened up a new and very exciting world of possibilities.  Not only would he be able to manipulate Booker both emotionally and sexually, if he played his cards right, he would be able to drive a wedge between the two young officers that could never be repaired.

With the image of Tom and Dennis in his mind, Martínez pumped his fist frantically over his cock and after a couple of minutes, he let out a muffled cry as his orgasm hit.  Sated from his release, he continued to play with his softening cock as he began to laugh quietly to himself.

The games were about to begin.  



	21. Pleasure and Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Carlos Martínez lay on his bed listening to the soft breathing of his sleeping cellmate.  His fingers played lightly over his growing erection and he groaned softly as Booker’s face flashed into his mind.  He knew the young cop would do anything to protect Hanson and that opened up a new and very exciting world of possibilities.  Not only would he be able to manipulate Booker both emotionally and sexually, if he played his cards right, he would be able to drive a wedge between the two young officers that could never be repaired._
> 
> _With the image of Tom and Dennis in his mind, Martínez pumped his fist frantically over his cock and after a couple of minutes, he let out a muffled cry as his orgasm hit.  Sated from his release, he continued to play with his softening cock as he began to laugh quietly to himself._
> 
> _The games were about to begin._

**Pleasure and Pain**  

Awakening from a deep sleep, Booker turned his head and gazed at Tom.  The soft dawn light that filtered through the small cell window illuminated his face and Dennis found himself mesmerized by Hanson’s beauty.  He was so completely captivated that he could not contain himself and bending forward, he lightly pressed his mouth against Tom’s inviting lips and kissed him softly.  Hanson moaned in his sleep and Dennis smiled against the full pout.  Reaching out, he ran his fingers lightly through Tom’s tousled hair.  When Hanson’s sleepy eyes finally fluttered open, he gazed at him adoringly.  “Morning,” he murmured and he traced his finger down Tom’s smooth cheek.  “Sleep well?”

Smiling lazily, Tom nodded.  It was the first decent night’s sleep since his incarceration and he now felt mentally prepared to deal with whatever surprises jail life had to throw at him.  He wondered if it was the sensation of Booker’s muscular body lying next to him that had made the difference.  It was comforting to know that he was not alone and he hoped that Dennis felt the same way.

Trailing his eyes down his friend’s firm body, he stopped and drew in his breath when he saw Booker’s erection tenting his boxers.  Biting down on his lower lip, he raised his gaze and saw that Dennis’ dark eyes were full of longing.  Without taking the time to think about his actions, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Dennis’ partially open mouth.  

Booker groaned and placing his hand behind Tom’s head, he pulled him closer.  As their kiss grew more passionate, Dennis felt his needs increasing.  Breaking the kiss, he brushed his lips against Tom’s ear.  “Touch me,” he murmured in a husky voice and taking hold of Hanson’s hand, he guided it down towards his semi erect cock.

Tom hesitated for a moment before tentatively stroking Booker’s cock through his boxers.  It felt strange feeling another man’s erection in his hand and he felt self-conscious as he lightly ran his fingers over the erect shaft.  Needing to hide his embarrassment, he again found Dennis’ mouth and kissed him deeply.  When Booker groaned in pleasure, Tom grew bolder and reaching into the soft material, he released his lover’s cock from its confines and rubbed his thumb over the moist slit.

“Yes,” Booker moaned against Tom’s mouth and he began to rock his hips.  “Touch me… I wanna feel you touching me.”

As he began to move his hand up and down Booker’s thick cock, Hanson felt his own erection hardening.  He could feel Dennis’ fingernails digging into his backside and he began to lose his inhibitions.  He quickened his pace as his mouth explored the olive skin of Booker’s throat.  Throwing his head back, Dennis began to writhe against the lumpy mattress.  “Faster,” he panted heavily.  “Oh fuck… oh yeah.”

Tom nipped at Booker’s earlobe.  “Come for me,” he breathed and it was those three little words that pushed Dennis to his climax.  Crying out, he thrust into the warm hand that was wrapped around his cock and his semen shot forth and covered Tom’s fingers.  Panting heavily, he continued to thrust until he had nothing left to release.  

Opening his eyes, he gazed lovingly at Tom and leaning forward he kissed him tenderly.  When he finally broke the kiss, he could see hot desire in Hanson’s eyes.  Sitting up, he moved lithely into position and straddling Tom’s thighs, he slowly pulled down his boxers.  “Ready?” he asked mischievously.

Hanson’s eyes filled with confusion.  “Wha—” he began, but his words were cut off when Booker grinned impishly and ducked his head.  When full lips wrapped around his cock and slowly moved up and down his erect shaft, Tom cried out in delight and he thrust his hips upwards whilst his fingers grasped at Booker’s hair.  Opening up his throat, Dennis began to hum and the vibration against his sensitive cockhead was too much for Tom to bear.  “FUCK!” he cried out in surprise and tangling his fingers in the dark hair, he pumped his cock deep into the accommodating warmth of Dennis’ mouth. “Jesus… oh Jesus… oh Jesus,” he cried and his hips lifted off the mattress.  Never in his life had he experienced such a sensation and he knew he would not be able to hold on for too long.  Finally, it was the sight of Dennis’ dark hair hovering over him that drove him to his climax.  With a primordial yell, he rammed his cock against the back of Booker’s mouth and ejaculated forcefully into his throat.  

Swallowing deeply, Dennis groaned as the salty fluid flowed down the back of his throat.  He savored the uniqueness of Tom’s taste and he lapped lovingly at the softening cock, unwilling to give up the flavor.  When Tom’s hands slowly disengaged, he lifted his head and smiled at the sated expression in his lover’s eyes.  Lying down on his side, he kissed Tom passionately.  As their tongues explored each other’s mouths, he shared with Tom the taste of his very essence.  When they eventually broke apart, he rolled onto his back and his chest rose and fell heavily as he fought to gain his breath.  “That was fucking amazing,” he gasped.

Tom stared up at the sagging bunk above him whilst he attempted to get his own breathing under control.  “Yeah,” he muttered in a breathless voice.

The shrill sound of the morning bell shattered their post orgasm bliss and Booker groaned in annoyance.  He did not want to leave the comfort of Tom’s bed and face the rest of the inmates and he especially did not want to face Martínez.  However, he had no choice; jail had rules and if you did not follow the rules there were dire consequences.  

Pulling up his boxers, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.  For the first time since his incarceration, he felt ready to tackle the day.  Unfortunately, he had no idea of the nightmare he was about to face.

**

Having managed to shower and eat breakfast without any incidents, Booker felt himself beginning to relax.  Neither Martínez nor his cohorts had paid them any attention during the morning and he wondered if the hacks had finally stepped in and given them a warning.  He hoped that he and Hanson had finally seen the end of the abuse they had both suffered over the last few weeks.  Their incarceration had occurred so quickly after their release from hospital that neither of them had received any form of psychological counseling to aid them in their recovery.  He realized now that Tom’s way of coping was to bury the memories of Bentley’s attacks deep into the recesses of his mind.  However, by doing so he was only delaying the inevitable.  One day something would set off a trigger in his brain and all the unwanted memories would come flooding back in one gigantic, all consuming wave.  It was Booker’s fear that if this happened, Tom would suffer a complete breakdown.  Although he himself had pushed the memories aside, he had not buried them completely and once he was free, he planned to seek some form of therapy to help him through the horror of his ordeals.  

Walking into the small gymnasium, he lay down on a bench and nodded at Tom.  “Spot me?” he asked and adjusting his position, he gripped hold of the weight bar above his head.  As he continuously lifted the barbell up and down, he could see Hanson’s face above him, his body hovering in case he needed help.  Gazing at the long bangs that framed his face, Booker once again found himself captivated by Tom’s attractiveness and he wondered if the young officer was even aware of how pretty he was.  It was a rare attribute in a man and whereas most pretty men appeared somewhat feminine, Tom was all male.  Although not muscular, his body was toned and it had a litheness that made him appear much smaller than he actually was.  Dennis was well aware that in a fair fight, Tom could hold his own.  However, that did not make him feel any less fearful as there were no fair fights in jail.

As he began to struggle with the weight of the barbell, Hanson stepped forward and placed it on the rack.  Sitting up, Booker grinned self-consciously as he flexed his arms.  “I’m not as strong as I thought I was,” he muttered.

Tom’s eyes traveled slowly down Dennis’ sweaty body.  “You look pretty strong to me,” he murmured softly.

A deep flush stained Booker’s skin and standing up, he placed his towel around his neck.  “Fancy some alone time?” he whispered.

Tom blushed and nodding his head, he followed Booker out of the gym and towards their cell.  As they were climbing the metal staircase to the second floor they heard Bill Jacobs call out their names.  Turning around, they waited until the hack was standing at the bottom of the steps.  “Turn it around fellas,” he instructed.  “You’ve got a visitor.”

Tom and Dennis exchanged puzzled looks.  “Both of us?” Booker asked in surprise.

“That’s what I said,” Jacobs replied.

Shrugging their shoulders, the two men followed Jacobs out of the main area and down a corridor.  When he stopped outside of a door, Tom narrowed his eyes warily.  “This isn’t the visitors’ room,” he said in a quiet voice.

Jacobs flashed a smile.  “Visitors’ room is full, you’re using this one today,” he advised.  Opening the door, he nodded his head.  “In you go.”

Stepping cautiously into the room, Tom looked around him and immediately relaxed.  The room consisted of a table and several chairs.  Turning to Booker, he raised his eyebrow.  “I guess we wait?”

Dennis was about to answer when the door behind them opened.  Turning around, both men paled when they saw Martínez and five other men enter the room.  The door slammed closed behind them and they heard a soft click as someone locked it from the outside.  Cracking his knuckles for effect, Martínez swaggered forward until he was standing just in front of Dennis, whilst the rest of the men quickly formed a circle around Hanson.  “Well, well, well,” he crooned menacingly.  “Did you really think you could run away from me puppy?” 

Upon hearing the word _puppy_ , Dennis’ face flushed pink but he held his ground.  “You don’t scare me Martínez,” he replied in a low voice.  “Wherever you go you always have to have backup.  If you were a real man it would be just you and me fighting it out.”

Carlos let out a hollow laugh and his brown eyes flashed dangerously. “Oh I’m a real man _cachorro_ ,” he muttered in a low voice.  “And you’re just about to find out just how _real_ I am.”  

With a slight nod of his head, Hanson found himself thrown to the floor by a large, bald man.  He immediately tried to scramble to his feet but two burly men stepped forward and held him down.  Seeing that Tom was in trouble, Dennis ran forward but a well aimed punch to the throat knocked him to the ground.  Unable to breathe, he kneeled on the floor as his hands clutched at his throat.  His eyes grew wide with panic and he could hear Tom screaming his name but he was unable to answer.  Supporting himself on one arm, he choked uncontrollably for several minutes until he was finally able to get his breathing under control.  Looking up, he saw Tom lying on his back, his arms and legs held by four men and a shank pushed against his throat.  When he struggled to stand up and go to his friend’s aid, a stinging blow to his face sent him reeling backwards.  He cried out in pain as a meaty fist grabbed his hair and yanked him roughly to his feet.  Strong hands grasped his arms, preventing him from moving and seconds later, he smelled hot nicotine breath against his face and his skin crawled in revulsion.

“Now, now,” Martínez berated softly.  “Behave.  We all know what happens to bad puppies… they get put down.”

Booker’s mind raced as he tried to think of a way to get both he and Tom away from the crazed inmate.  He could see the terror in Tom’s eyes and he knew that he had no choice; whatever Martínez asked him to do, he had to do it or Hanson would no doubt pay the price.

As _Mad Dog_ Morgan held Booker’s arms firmly in place, Martínez walked around so he could stare into his captive’s frightened eyes.  “Are you going to behave puppy?” he asked in a singsong voice.

Hanging his head in defeat, Dennis nodded.  Carlos grinned like a lunatic and reaching forward, he popped the button on Booker’s jeans and slowly pulled down the zipper.  “Kick off your shoes,” he murmured in a husky voice and his eyes became black with arousal.  

Biting down on his lower lip, Dennis did as Carlos asked, all the while ignoring Tom’s pleas for him to stop.  Martínez yanked down his jeans and boxers and he stepped out of them without having to be asked.  “Good puppy,” Martínez uttered softly and he ruffled Booker’s hair.  “Now, on your hands and knees.”

Dennis dropped to the floor and hung his head so he would not have to meet Tom’s eyes.  He flinched when he felt Martínez tie a rope around his neck and pull it tight.  The coarse fibers bit into his flesh and he cried out softly.  He tried desperately to block out the sound of Tom’s distressed voice screaming his name and tears of humiliation filled his eyes.  He gasped loudly as Martínez pushed against his opening and as his muscles stretched and his delicate skin tore, tears of shame streamed from his eyes.  When Martínez began to pump his cock in and out, he once again bit down on his lip to stifle a cry.  He felt warm breath on the nape of his neck and he shuddered involuntarily.  Moments later a low voice whispered in his ear.  “Bark puppy.”

This time Dennis resisted and he shook his head furiously from side to side.  The sound of Tom screaming jerked his head up and he cried out when he saw blood gushing from a large wound in his friend’s neck.

“BARK!” Martínez yelled and his pace became more frenetic as he pulled on the homemade leash around Booker’s neck.

“Don’t!” Tom sobbed hysterically as blood stained the front of his white t-shirt.  “Oh God Dennis DON’T!”

Tears streamed down Booker’s face and lowering his head so that he did not have to face the humiliation of seeing the expression on Tom’s face, he let out a soft bark.

“Louder!” Martínez shouted excitedly and he tightened the rope around Booker’s throat as he slammed his cock in and out of his body.  “I want to hear you bark!”

Choking back a sob, Dennis began to bark.  Laughter filled the room and the men began to jeer.  Carlos’ screamed out in delight and yanking Booker’s head back, he spilled forth his orgasm before collapsing heavily on top of his victim.  

The room went eerily silent except for Tom’s anguished sobs.  Martínez withdrew from Booker’s body and standing up, he pulled up his jeans and tucked in his shirt.  Looking down at Dennis, he grinned cruelly and nudged at the unmoving form with the toe of his boot.  “Aww puppy,” he pouted.  “Was I too rough on you?”

His cohorts laughed in amusement.  Walking over, he gazed down menacingly into Tom’s pale face.  “You got off lightly today _chico_ ,” he muttered softly.  “Next time, I might be riding _you_.”  

When Carlos nodded his head, the men released Hanson’s arms and legs.  They walked over to the door and after knocking on the wooden paneling, the door opened and they exited the room.

Ignoring the pain in his neck, Tom crawled across the floor to where Booker lay.  Reaching out, he started to sob as he laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder.  “Dennis?” he wept, the pain that he felt for his lover almost too much to bear.  

Booker pulled himself into a sitting position and swatted Tom’s hand away.  “Don’t touch me,” he replied through gritted teeth.  Scrambling to his feet, he silently pulled on his boxers and jeans and picked up his boots.

Tom stood up unsteadily and placed a bloodied hand on Dennis’ arm.  “Dennis—” he tried again.

This time Booker turned around and shoved Hanson forcefully onto the floor.  “I SAID DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” he screamed into Tom’s startled face and without waiting to see if his friend was all right, he turned and walked away.  


 


	22. Shattered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: The room went eerily silent except for Tom’s anguished sobs.  Martínez withdrew from Booker’s body and standing up, he pulled up his jeans and tucked in his shirt.  Looking down at Dennis, he grinned cruelly and nudged at the unmoving form with the toe of his boot.  “Aww puppy,” he pouted.  “Was I too rough on you?”_
> 
> _His cohorts laughed in amusement.  Walking over, he gazed down menacingly into Tom’s pale face.  “You got off lightly today chico,” he muttered softly.  “Next time, I might be riding you.”_
> 
> _When Carlos nodded his head, the men released Hanson’s arms and legs.  They walked over to the door and after knocking on the wooden paneling, the door opened and they exited the room._
> 
> _Ignoring the pain in his neck, Tom crawled across the floor to where Booker lay.  Reaching out, he started to sob as he laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder.  “Dennis?” he wept, the pain that he felt for his lover almost too much to bear._
> 
> _Booker pulled himself into a sitting position and swatted Tom’s hand away.  “Don’t touch me,” he replied through gritted teeth.  Scrambling to his feet, he silently pulled on his boxers and jeans and picked up his boots._
> 
> _Tom stood up unsteadily and placed a bloodied hand on Dennis’ arm.  “Dennis—” he tried again._
> 
> _This time Booker turned around and shoved Hanson forcefully onto the floor.  “I SAID DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” he screamed into Tom’s startled face and without waiting to see if his friend was all right, he turned and walked away._

**Shattered**

Picking himself up off the floor, Tom placed a hand over the gash in his neck and staggered from the room.  CO Mary Ellis; who was one of only a few correctional officers who actually cared about the inmates’ wellbeing, rushed forward and quickly escorted him to the medical facility.  He sat in stunned silence as a doctor cleaned the wound and inserted several sutures.  When the GP picked up his instruments and left the room, Mary crossed her arms across her chest and gave him a perturbed look.  “Care to tell me who did this to you Hanson?” she asked in a quiet voice.

Tom lowered his eyes and shook his head.  He knew the jail code all too well; keep your mouth shut or suffer the consequences.  On the inside, the inmates considered a snitch the lowest of all criminals and he would do neither himself nor Dennis any favors by informing on Carlos Martínez and the rest of his gang.  Telling the hacks what was happening would not help, they needed to find a way to defend themselves against the attacks and prove to the other prisoners that they were not easy targets.  By doing that, they had a better chance of survival.

Slipping down off the gurney, Tom raised his eyes and gave Ellis a sullen look.  “Can I go now?” he mumbled.

Mary Ellis heaved a sigh of frustration.  Stepping forward, she laid a hand on Tom’s arm.  “How do you expect me to help you if you won’t tell me what’s going on?” she asked gently.

Tom gave the hack a bitter smile.  “You can’t help us,” he muttered, “And even if you could, they’d just do it to someone else.”

Knowing that she was unlikely to receive any further information, Mary accompanied Tom back to general population.  As she watched Hanson slowly climb the metal staircase up to his cell, she wished that she could do more to protect the vulnerable inmates under her care.

**

When Tom reached the top of the stairway and stood on top of the metal balcony that ran the length of the second floor, he paused outside his cell and closed his eyes.  The injury to his neck stung painfully and blood covered the front of his t-shirt and stained his hands.  He felt sick but he knew his pain did not compare to how Booker must be feeling.  Martínez had humiliated him in the most savagely cruel way possible and it would be difficult for him to recover from the shame.  Tom felt enormous guilt over what had happened because he knew Dennis had only done what he had to protect him from harm.  He hated it that Booker felt obligated to safeguard him but he also knew that he was somewhat responsible for his friend’s guilt.  After Bentley had forced Dennis to have sex with him, he had suffered a complete breakdown and the result was that he had completely lost control and killed his abuser.  He knew that Dennis felt partly accountable for his moment of blind rage and that was why he had not allowed him to take sole responsibility for the murder.  It was the same situation now that they were in jail; Booker felt the need to protect him from himself.  Tom knew that Dennis feared that if pushed too far, he might again snap and if that happened, he could end up facing an accusation for assault, or even worse, another manslaughter charge.  However, he also knew that Dennis was in love with him and would do anything to protect him, even to his own detriment.  It worried him how devoted Booker was to him, to the point of putting himself through hell just to save him from harm.

Opening his eyes, Tom knew he could delay the inevitable no longer; he needed to check on Dennis and make sure he was okay, well as okay as someone could be after suffering a sexual assault.  He understood all too well that his friend had needed time alone after the attack to gather his thoughts and to allow himself to lose control and breakdown without prying eyes watching him.  However, too much time alone was injurious to the grieving process and it was now time for him to be consoled.

Walking into the cell, Tom stopped when he saw Booker leaning against the small hand basin, his fixed gaze focused on his reflection in the mirror.  When he started to move towards his friend, Dennis’ strained voice stopped him with one word.  “Don’t.”

Hanson stood still and ran a shaky hand through his hair.  “Dennis I—” he began in a soft voice.

Booker immediately cut him off.  “This isn’t about you Hanson,” he replied through clenched teeth whilst his gaze never left his reflection in the mirror.  “I don’t want to talk to you and I don’t want to look at you, so why don’t you piss off and leave me the hell alone.”

Unable to accept that Booker did not want him around, Tom tried again.  “But Dennis I think—” he replied quietly but he flinched in surprise when Dennis slammed his fist into the mirror.  He stared in horror at Booker’s bloodied hand and the shattered remains of the mirror and he felt perspiration prickling his forehead.  The signs were all there, Booker was about to lose control completely and he needed to step in and prevent him from hurting himself or others.  Ignoring the earlier warning, he stepped forward and laid a hand on his friend’s arm.  “Dennis—”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!” Dennis screamed and turning around he charged at Tom and shoving him in the chest, he knocked him to the floor.  He stood over Hanson’s prone body with his hands balled into tight fists and his expression enraged.  “I’M BOOKER!” he yelled hysterically, his eyes flashing wildly.  “DO YOU HEAR ME?  BOOKER!  I’M NOT YOUR FRIEND… YOU HATE ME!  YOU’VE ALWAYS HATED ME!  WHY ARE YOU PRETENDING TO BE MY FRIEND YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH?  I FUCKING HATE YOU!  NOW FUCK OFF!  JUST FUCK _OFF!_ ”

Fear gripped at Tom’s heart and holding out both hands in the surrender position, he slowly scrambled to his feet.  Dennis’ eyes glared at him manically and he wondered if he had worn the same deranged expression when he had murdered Rory Bentley.  Stepping backwards, he spoke in a low calm voice.  “It’s okay Booker,” he murmured soothingly.  “I’m leaving.  When you want to talk, you know I’m here for you.”

Dennis let out a hollow laugh.  “Yeah?” he asked in a mocking tone.  “Since when have any of you Jump Street officers _ever_ been there for me?”

Tom felt a sudden burst of anger at Booker’s words and his face burned red.  “What the hell is wrong with you?” he shouted.  “I thought we were friends!  I thought there was something… something developing between us.  Why are you pushing me away now?  We need to protect each other, we need—”

Booker’s expression remained impassive and turning away, he climbed slowly up onto his bunk and lying down, he covered his eyes with his arm.  “I told you, we’re not friends,” he muttered in a barely audible voice.  “We’re not anything, now leave me alone.”

Bewildered by the turn of events, Tom turned away and walked from the room with tears glistening in his eyes.

**

Sitting alone at the end of the long dining table, Tom picked at his food and tried to block out the noisy chatter that echoed around the large room.  Dennis had remained in their cell, refusing to speak or even make eye contact with him and he was becoming increasingly concerned about his hostile behavior.  He understood that his friend was having difficulty coming to terms with him witnessing the degradation he had suffered at the hands of Martínez but he was saddened that he was unable to offer any support.  He desperately wanted to wrap his arms protectively around Booker and give him comfort but he knew his advances would only bring more rejection.  Dennis had been there for him repeatedly and now he was helpless to assist the man who he now considered a close friend.  It was almost as though his very presence caused Booker insurmountable pain and he was unsure how to remedy the situation.  They had another seventeen days until their preliminary hearing and he hoped that they would not spend that time estranged in a place that preyed upon those who were alone.

Picking up his tray, he scraped his uneaten food into the trash and walked out of the dining room and into the main _gen pop_ area.  His eyes searched the room, seeking out CO Ellis but she was nowhere in sight.  Sighing, he suddenly remembered that her shift had ended before the dinner bell.  He had hoped to have a quiet word with her and explain his concerns about Booker’s mental health.  She was the most understanding officer in the jail and even though he needed to be careful about how much information he divulged, he was confident that she would be able to read between the lines and get Dennis a meeting with a doctor.

Having nowhere else to go except back up to the cell, Tom climbed the metal stairway and walked into the small room.  Booker was asleep with his face turned towards the wall.  Hanson paused by the side of the bed and reached out his hand but he quickly withdrew it.  There was no point in causing Dennis more pain by making contact.  He just had to be patient and hope that his friend would once again, turn to him for support.

**

Tom awoke to the sound of Dennis urinating.  Yawning loudly, he sat up and ran his fingers through his messy hair.  Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood up and scratched lazily at his stomach.  He waited for Booker to finish before taking his place at the toilet and he sighed as he relieved his bladder.  By the time he had finished, Booker had left the room and he was alone with his thoughts.

Picking up his towel and toiletries, he wandered slowly from the cell and joined the line of men heading towards the communal shower room.  Before he had even entered the large, tiled bathroom he could hear the sound of barking and his blood ran cold.  Pushing his way to the front of the line, he stormed into the room, terrified of what he would see.  He sighed when he caught sight of Booker under the shower and that Martínez and Morgan were only goading him by barking.  It was not a pleasant situation to witness but compared to what Tom thought he was going to see, it was a relief.  He stood for a moment and studied Booker’s reaction to the taunts but from what he could see, his friend appeared not to notice.  Again, a feeling of unease ran through Hanson’s body.  He hoped that Dennis was feigning oblivion and that he had not completely withdrawn from his surroundings.

Entering a free shower, Tom kept an eye on Dennis but it appeared Martínez had decided not to engage in any foul play, at least not for the time being.  He felt himself relax when the inmate left without making any further remarks.  Moments later, Booker stepped out of the shower and quickly dried off before dressing in the regulation white t-shirt and jeans.  Tom hurried out of the shower in the hope of keeping Dennis in view but by the time he had dressed, the young officer was nowhere in sight.  Returning to their cell, he was surprised to find it empty but he figured that Dennis must have already made his way to breakfast.  When he arrived in the dining hall, he scanned the long trestle tables for any sign of his friend.  Unable to find him, he joined the line and after receiving his food, he sat down with several men who he knew to be reasonably trustworthy.  He refrained from any conversation, preferring to eat his food and get back to his cell as quickly as possible.  Today was a new day and even though Booker had snubbed him that morning, he hoped that maybe he would be able to reach out and let him know that he was there for him.

When he entered their cell, Booker was not there and he wondered if he had gone to the gym.  Turning around, he almost collided with Dennis as he walked into the room.  Unable to stop himself, Tom smiled but the grin froze on his lips when he looked into his friend’s eyes and saw that his pupils were distinctively small.  Grabbing hold of Dennis shoulders, he spun him around and shoved him into the tiny room.  “What the hell have you taken?” he yelled.  “Are you fucking insane?  You’re taking drugs now?”

A slow smile spread over Dennis’ lips and hoisting himself up on to his bunk, he grinned down at Tom.  “And what exactly are you going to do about it _Tommy?_ ” he smirked.

It was then that Tom feared losing Dennis forever.  



	23. Mortuus in Anima

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Picking up his towel and toiletries, he wandered slowly from the cell and joined the line of men heading towards the communal shower room.  Before he had even entered the large, tiled bathroom he could hear the sound of barking and his blood ran cold.  Pushing his way to the front of the line, he stormed into the room, terrified of what he would see.  He sighed when he caught sight of Booker under the shower and that Martínez and Morgan were only goading him by barking.  It was not a pleasant situation to witness but compared to what Tom thought he was going to see, it was a relief.  He stood for a moment and studied Booker’s reaction to the taunts but from what he could see, his friend appeared not to notice.  Again, a feeling of unease ran through Hanson’s body.  He hoped that Dennis was feigning oblivion and that he had not completely withdrawn from his surroundings._
> 
> _Entering a free shower, Tom kept an eye on Dennis but it appeared Martínez had decided not to engage in any foul play, at least not for the time being.  He felt himself relax when the inmate left without making any further remarks.  Moments later, Booker stepped out of the shower and quickly dried off before dressing in the regulation white t-shirt and jeans.  Tom hurried out of the shower in the hope of keeping Dennis in view but by the time he had dressed, the young officer was nowhere in sight.  Returning to their cell, he was surprised to find it empty but he figured that Dennis must have already made his way to breakfast.  When he arrived in the dining hall, he scanned the long trestle tables for any sign of his friend.  Unable to find him, he joined the line and after receiving his food, he sat down with several men who he knew to be reasonably trustworthy.  He refrained from any conversation, preferring to eat his food and get back to his cell as quickly as possible.  Today was a new day and even though Booker had snubbed him that morning, he hoped that maybe he would be able to reach out and let him know that he was there for him._
> 
> _When he entered their cell, Booker was not there and he wondered if he had gone to the gym.  Turning around, he almost collided with Dennis as he walked into the room.  Unable to stop himself, Tom smiled but the grin froze on his lips when he looked into his friend’s eyes and saw that his pupils were distinctively small.  Grabbing hold of Dennis shoulders, he spun him around and shoved him into the tiny room.  “What the hell have you taken?” he yelled.  “Are you fucking insane?  You’re taking drugs now?”_
> 
> _A slow smile spread over Dennis’ lips and hoisting himself up on to his bunk, he grinned down at Tom.  “And what exactly are you going to do about it Tommy?” he smirked._
> 
> _It was then that Tom feared losing Dennis forever._

**Mortuus in Anima**  

Tom stood in the middle of the cell staring up at Booker’s sneering face with disbelieving eyes.  His mind was in turmoil as he tried to comprehend how their lives had spun so far out of control that they had ended up at this precise moment in time; with Dennis high on heroin and he with a knife wound to his neck.  Only two weeks ago, they were working undercover, walking the L.A. streets in search of a killer and their only worry was the cold weather and the uncomfortable living conditions they resided in.  Now, they were both victims of rape and they were living in constant fear.  Having built up a close, trusting friendship through their shared adversity, their relationship was beginning to implode.  Booker had withdrawn completely and was heading down a path of self-destruction and Tom felt at a loss as to how to help him.

Feeling a desperate need to make contact with the warm and loving Booker he had formed an affinity with, Tom reached out, took hold of his friend’s hand and squeezed his fingers.  “Please Dennis,” he cajoled in a soft voice.  “Just listen to me, this is madness.  You don’t take drugs!”

Dennis’ demeanor rapidly changed and he snatched his hand away.  “I told you not to call me that,” he replied sullenly.  “It’s Booker.  You always called me Booker.” 

“Yes I did,” Tom admitted in a quiet voice.  “But a lot of things have changed between you and me since those days at Jump Street Dennis.”  Determined to try again, he placed his hand on Booker’s knee.  “Don’t you remember?”

Booker jumped down from the bunk and began to pace around the small cell, his mood clearly agitated.  “Of course I fucking remember!” he shouted irately.  “But I’ve changed my mind Hanson, I don’t _want_ you in my life.  I don’t want you anywhere fucking near me!”

Concerned that Booker was about to lose control completely, Tom decided to back off.  “Okay,” he murmured quietly.  “I’ll give you your space.  But we share a cell so you’re going to have to face me sometime.”

Climbing back up onto his bunk, Booker lay down and gave Hanson an embittered look.  “Yeah?  Well if I’m high I can pretend that you’re not here.”  

Tom remained standing for several moments before giving Booker his wish and leaving him alone.

**

Having spent an hour in the gym working off his frustrations, Tom threw his towel around his neck and headed towards the shower room.  He felt vulnerable showering alone but since Booker’s melt down he had made the decision that he could no longer live his life in fear.  If he had indeed lost Dennis as a friend, then he was completely on his own in a brutal, unpredictable environment.  He needed to start asserting himself if he had any hope of surviving on the inside.

Kicking off his boots and yanking off his socks, he had just begun to pull his t-shirt over his head when Carlos Martínez, Pete Morgan, Eduardo Sánchez and Henry Thomas entered the room.  Before he had time to react, Morgan and Thomas had him by the arms and although he struggled violently, he had no hope of breaking free of the two powerful men.  

Martínez strolled over and grasping hold of Tom’s chin in his hand, he forced him to look into his face.  “Hello Tommy,” he purred.  “Fancy meeting you here.”

Although his heart was racing with fear, Tom kept his expression neutral.  “What do you want Martínez?” he growled whilst continuing to struggle against his oppressors.  “Haven’t you done enough?”

Chuckling in amusement, Martínez patted Hanson on the cheek.  “Oh my silly little prag,” he smirked.  “I’ve only just begun.  I’ve separated you from your precious Dennis and now _you_ my gorgeous Tommy, are ripe for the picking.  So what’s it gonna be _chico_ , huh?  Do you want to suck my dick or do you want me to fuck you up the ass?  The choice is yours.”

Tom clenched his hands into tight fists.  “If you stick your cock anywhere near my mouth I’ll bite the fucking thing off,” he threatened in a low, menacing voice.

Unperturbed, Carlos Martínez grinned at the men holding Hanson.  “Up the ass it is!  Hold him against the wall fellas.  Let’s get this show on the road.”

Realizing that he was just moments away from Martínez raping him, Tom started to panic.  However, he had no opportunity to cry out as large, nicotine-smelling fingers clamped over his mouth, muffling his calls for help.  Henry Thomas slammed his cheek against the cold tiled wall as Morgan yanked down his jeans and boxers.  Raw terror consumed his mind and he struggled violently against his attackers.  A stifled scream escaped his lips as Eduardo Sánchez yanked his arms painfully upwards and he felt his muscles strain.  Morgan stabbed a homemade shank; fashioned from the handle of a toothbrush, into the flesh beneath his left eye.  “If you don’t want to end up with only one eye you’ll stop struggling,” the man growled against Hanson’s ear.

Tom immediately stopped resisting and letting out a defeated sob, a single tear trickled down his cheek.  He screwed his eyes closed as a rough finger pushed into his anus, followed by a second.  Moments later, he felt warm breath against his ear and he shrank away from the contact.  

“Ready prag?” Martínez whispered against his ear and Tom began to cry freely, unable to contain the helplessness and despair that filled his heart.  The callused fingers withdrew from his body but Carlos’ cock quickly replaced them and Tom let out a muffled cry of pain as the Latino’s erection pushed deep into his body.  Tears coursed down his face and he struggled to breathe against the hand clamped over his mouth.  Although his mind was screaming, he could still hear Martínez’s satisfied grunts and the sound of laughter from his cohorts.  Throughout the horror of his rape, Dennis’ face repeatedly flashed into his mind, confusing his senses and he began to lose touch with reality.  He remembered lying on his tiny bunk, his body writhing beneath Booker’s touch until he reached an explosive orgasm.  His body and mind had trouble disassociating the glorious memory from the rape that was taking place and his cock started to swell.  The taste of his own salty fluid on Booker’s lips suddenly replaced the acidity of the palm pushed against his mouth.  Martínez’s scream of pleasure as his orgasm hit became the sound of Dennis’ delighted cry when he had reached his climax and it was only when he found himself lying on the wet floor that he came back to the chilling reality that he suffered yet another rape.

Opening his eyes, he stared catatonically at the men who stood circled around him, laughing at his burgeoning erection.  “Check it out Martínez,” Sánchez chortled.  “You got the prag horny.  He must have liked it.”

Licking his lips, Carlos Martínez squatted down and lightly stroked his finger up and down Tom’s cock.  “Do you want me to make you come _chico?_   Would that make you happy?” he murmured softly.  Without waiting for a reply, he wrapped his fingers around Tom’s erection and began to move his hand up and down the long shaft.  Hanson’s eyes remained fixed and he made no sound when he reached his climax.  Martínez stood up and slowly licked his fingers clean before turning to his friends.  “He was even more fun than Booker,” he smirked.  “I think I’m going to like having him as my toy.”

The men murmured their approval and exited the bathroom laughing in amusement.

**

Tom had no idea how long he remained on the floor but he suddenly became aware of gentle fingers stroking his face.  Recoiling from the touch, he scrambled to the corner of the room and pulling his legs up to his chest, he hugged his knees protectively.  He watched in terror as blue trousered legs approached him and he buried his face so as not to have to look at his attacker.  When a soft voice spoke to him, he lifted his head and saw CO Mary Ellis squatting next to him.  “It’s okay Hanson,” she murmured in a soothing voice.  “Let’s get you dressed and I’ll take you to see Doctor Andrews.”

The shock of his attack engulfed Tom’s body and he started to shake uncontrollably.  He allowed the young woman to help him to his feet and he stood with his arms wrapped around his chest as Ellis pulled on his boxers and jeans.  His damp t-shirt clung to his body and Mary thought how young and vulnerable he looked.  After speaking into her walkie-talkie, she placed an arm around Hanson’s shoulders and escorted him from the room.  

Dozens of pairs of eyes watched silently as Ellis led Tom through the crowded recreational area and out into the corridor.  When they entered the medical facility, Hanson remained unresponsive as the CO explained to Doctor Bartholomew Andrews what had occurred.  Even when a young nurse removed his clothing and the GP examined and probed his body, he remained motionless, his brown eyes staring vacantly in front of him.  Andrews made the determination to hospitalize him for shock and Ellis did not argue the point.  Leaving Tom in the medical staff’s capable hands, she left the treatment room in search of Booker.

**

An hour passed before Ellis was able to return to _gen pop_.  She had received an urgent call to return to the medical facility and when she arrived, she found that Tom was no longer in a catatonic state.  Several officers held him down whilst his body thrashed violently and he screamed obscenities.  Mary assisted her colleagues in keeping Hanson still as Doctor Andrews administered a sedative.  When the men lifted Tom onto a gurney, she took hold of his hand as they wheeled him into a small room.  She struggled to keep her expression impassive as the doctor strapped him to the bed and she waited until they were alone before reaching out and brushing the sweaty strands of hair from his face.  Although she knew she should return to her duties, she remained standing for a full thirty minutes beside Hanson’s bed, staring down into his pale face.  She felt partially responsible for what had happened to Tom and she was having trouble coming to terms with her guilt.  In retrospect, she now wished she had pushed Hanson to reveal what had happened the day before.  If she had, she might not be standing there now gazing down at yet another victim of rape.  However, she also knew how difficult it was to get inmates to talk and she doubted Tom would have revealed any names even if she had persisted with her questioning.

Realizing that her colleagues would be wondering where she was, she reluctantly left Tom’s bedside and returned to the crowded jail.  She made it her first mission to find Booker and tell him what had happened to Tom.  It was a well-known fact amongst the hacks that Tom and Dennis had a close bond and many speculated as to just how personal the relationship was.  However, to Ellis it was irrelevant.  She had never been one to judge a person on their sexuality and if Hanson and Booker found comfort from the horrors of life in jail by being intimate, then it was no concern of hers.  Having read their files, she was well aware that both men had admitted to killing Rory Bentley and it was obvious that one man was covering for the other.  That in itself told her that the relationship probably went beyond just friendship.  It was a rarity in her line of work to come across two men who defended each other in such a way that they would be prepared to do time just to protect the other from harm and she wished that she had a special someone in her life who would do the same for her.

Reaching Tom’s cell, she walked in and approached the bunk where Booker was lying staring blankly at the ceiling.  As she neared the bed, the shocking realization hit her that Booker was high on heroin.  There was no mention in the file of him having a drug problem and she was well aware that both he and Tom were highly respected police officers in an undercover program.  It was certainly common for inmates to turn to drugs to cope with life behind bars but it was _more_ uncommon if the prisoner had a close network of friends inside.  Tom and Dennis had spent less than a week incarcerated and it was now blatantly obvious to Ellis that Booker had suffered a sexual assault at the hands of another inmate.  She knew that the young officers had endured repeated rapes whilst held captive by Bentley and she wondered if Dennis' last rape had pushed him over the edge.  To make matters worse, she now had the unenviable task of delivering the news of Tom’s assault and she hoped that the information would not drive Booker to seek further solace in drugs.

When Booker showed no sign of acknowledging her presence, she cleared her throat.  “Booker,” she began and she was surprised at how shaky her voice sounded.  “I need to talk to you about Tom.”

Dennis slowly turned his drug induced gaze towards the CO.  “Save your breath,” he mumbled.  “I don’t give a rat’s ass about Hanson.”

Mary’s eyes widened in surprise at Booker’s words and she wondered how to proceed.  She had been expecting Booker to show real concern for his friend’s wellbeing and the last reaction she had expected was complete indifference.  Shifting uncomfortably, she decided not to beat around the bush.  “Tom’s been raped,” she informed Dennis.  “He’s okay but he’s in the medical facility under observation.”

Booker’s expression remained deadpan.  Turning away, he resumed his study of the chipped paint on the ceiling.  “Thanks for dropping by,” he muttered.  “But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention Hanson’s name to me again.”

Bewildered by Dennis’ reaction, Ellis nodded her head and exited the cell.  As she made her way down the metal staircase, she wondered if Tom knew that his friend no longer cared for him and that he was now completely alone. 


	24. Divided We Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: When Booker showed no sign of acknowledging her presence, she cleared her throat.  “Booker,” she began and she was surprised at how shaky her voice sounded.  “I need to talk to you about Tom.”_
> 
> _Dennis slowly turned his drug induced gaze towards the CO.  “Save your breath,” he mumbled.  “I don’t give a rat’s ass about Hanson.”_
> 
> _Mary’s eyes widened in surprise at Booker’s words and she wondered how to proceed.  She had been expecting Booker to show real concern for his friend’s wellbeing and the last reaction she had expected was complete indifference.  Shifting uncomfortably, she decided not to beat around the bush.  “Tom’s been raped,” she informed Dennis.  “He’s okay but he’s in the medical facility under observation.”_
> 
> _Booker’s expression remained deadpan.  Turning away, he resumed his study of the chipped paint on the ceiling.  “Thanks for dropping by,” he muttered.  “But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention Hanson’s name to me again.”_
> 
> _Bewildered by Dennis’ reaction, Ellis nodded her head and exited the cell.  As she made her way down the metal staircase, she wondered if Tom knew that his friend no longer cared for him and that he was now completely alone._

**Divided We Fall**  

Nurse Andrea Collins stood at Tom’s bedside checking his vitals whilst he slept.  Although still strapped to the bed, his head moved from side to side and unintelligible words tumbled from his dry lips.  Aware of the signs, Nurse Collins laid a gentle hand on the top of his head and spoke to him in a low, sweet voice.  “Wake up Tom,” she instructed softly whilst her hand stroked his matted hair.  “You’re having a nightmare.”

Tom’s eyes flew open and he stared frantically around the room, his disorientation evident in his wide, frightened eyes.  He struggled to sit up but the wide leather straps around his torso, wrists, legs and ankles prevented him from moving.  Panic set in and he began to hyperventilate as he fought against the restraints holding him down.  It was only when Nurse Collins’ face came into view that he remembered where he was and his body relaxed back against the mattress.  Looking up into her sympathetic face, the enormity of what had happened to him hit hard and he started to cry.

Andrea felt a stabbing pain in her heart and pulling up a chair, she sat down at Tom’s bedside and continued to stroke his hair.  “Shh,” she murmured quietly.  “You’ll be okay.  I promise you, you’ll be okay.”

Tom did not answer but he took comfort from the gentle caress of the nurse’s hand and closing his eyes, he drifted back into an uneasy sleep.

**

Booker stood secreted in the shadows under the metal staircase, a small vial of heroin concealed in the palm of his hand.  Lifting the tiny cylinder to his nostril, he inhaled deeply through his nose and snorted up a measure of the fine white powder.  Pinching his nostrils closed, he screwed his eyes shut and a slow grin played across his lips.  In approximately ten minutes, his mind would be free.  He could forget all of the pain and suffering he had endured and the sights he had witnessed over the last two weeks would become a distant memory, if only for a moment.  Now that he no longer had Hanson, heroin was his new best friend and if he could not physically escape the confines of the jail, the drug at least allowed him to escape mentally.

Wiping his finger under his nose to remove any telltale traces of the white powder, he shoved the vial deep into his pocket and sauntered out into the recreation area.  Spying a group of men playing pool, he wandered over to the table and leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms and watched the game.  As the effects of the drug took hold of his mind, he began to relax and really enjoy the tournament playing out between the two inmates.  When it had finished, he pushed himself away from the wall and stepping forward, he boldly challenged the winner.  The large, bald, tattooed man eyed him up and down before silently handing him a cue.  It did not take long for word to spread that Martínez’s _prag_ had challenged John _The Tank_ Jenkins and a large group of men gathered around the table.  Money secretly changed hands as the inmates bet on who would win.  Booker racked up the balls and smiling smugly at the tattooed man, he nodded at the table.  “Ladies first.”

Jenkins emitted a low growl and after chalking his cue, he stepped forward.  Leaning his substantial stomach against the table, he took the breaking shot.  When the white ball hit it sounded like a firing pistol and the balls scattered around the table.  Moving slowly into position, Booker took aim and easily pocketed the striped number fourteen ball.  Grinning cheekily, he winked at Jenkins.  “Looks like I’ve got the big balls,” he smirked.  “I guess yours are small.”

With a snarl, Jenkins rushed at Dennis and knocked him to the ground.  Loud cheering echoed around the room as the angry inmate repeatedly slammed his fist into Booker’s face.  Within moments, Trent Matheson, Blake Harrison and Bill Jacobs had pushed through the crowd of men and hauled Jenkins to his feet.  Booker remained on the floor, grinning manically through bloodstained teeth whilst his eyes flashed crazily.  “Are you forfeiting you motherfucker?” he yelled.  

He continued to watch Matheson and Jacobs drag the tattooed man away until Harrison toed him in the leg with his boot.  “On your feet Booker, you need to see the doctor.”

Mary Ellis arrived and stepping forward, she placed her hand on Harrison’s arm.  “I’ll take him,” she offered, hoping that Harrison would not intervene.  She wanted another chance to speak to Booker and knowing that Tom was in the medical facility, she hoped that maybe he would agree to visit his colleague.

“Your call,” Harrison muttered, not caring one way or the other who dealt with Booker.  He had been a correctional officer for twenty years and any compassion he had initially felt for the inmates had vanished over the years.  It amused him that Ellis still thought she could make a difference in the lives of the men under her charge but it also made his life easier.  If she wanted to be _hands on_ , that was fine with him; it gave him more time to sneak a cigarette on the roof or grab a cup of coffee.

Ellis waited until Booker was standing before assessing his injuries.  He had a split lip and a cut above his eye but no other visible signs of trauma.  Taking the young officer by the arm, she steered him in the direction of the entrance that led out into the main building.  As they walked down the corridor towards the medical facility, she suddenly stopped and stood in front of Dennis with her hands on her hips.  “That was stupid,” she reprimanded him.   “John Jenkins is twice your size.  Why did you goad him into attacking you?”

Booker gingerly touched his bloodied lip and smiled.  “I was bored,” he replied cockily.

Ellis sighed and softened her look.  “What’s happened to you Dennis?” she asked quietly.  “When you came in here you were a completely different person… a _caring_ person.  But now, well now you’re behaving like an asshole.  What happened between you and Hanson for you to change so much in only a few days?”

Scowling heavily, Booker gave the CO a hard stare.  “It’s none of your damn business what happened between me and Hanson,” he snarled.  “And I sure as hell don’t need a lecture from some _hack_.  Now, if we aren’t going to see the doctor you can take me back to my cell.”

Taking a step forward, Ellis tried one last time to connect with Booker.  “Tom’s in the medical wing,” she advised in a soft voice.  “He could really use a friend after what happened to him.”

This time Booker lowered his eyes, unable to meet the correctional officer’s compassionate gaze.  “Yeah?” he replied quietly.  “Well, he doesn’t need to see me ‘cause we’re not friends, not anymore.”

Sensing that she was beginning to make progress, Mary Ellis took hold of Dennis’ hand.  “Have you told him why?” she asked quietly.

Pulling his hand away, Booker shook his head.  “It doesn’t matter, not anymore,” he said in an unwavering voice.  “Something happened in here that changed me forever and whenever I look at Hanson I see _that_ something reflected in his eyes and it brings back all the memories of how I was made to…”  He paused and gave Ellis a small, bitter smile.  “You nearly tricked me into telling you,” he said as he wagged his finger at her.  “You need to let this go.  Hanson and I are through and I’d prefer it if he was moved to another cell.”

Ellis huffed in frustration.  “Fine,” she replied in a strained voice.  “But you don’t have to worry about Hanson, I’m recommending he be moved into the segregated section for his own safety.  You’ll have your cell to yourself.”

For a fraction of a second, Ellis saw a glimmer of sadness in Booker’s eyes but the look vanished as quickly as it had come.  “Come on,” she said in a weary voice.  “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Following the CO silently down the corridor, Booker felt tears burning his eyes and he angrily blinked them away.  What was done was done and he needed to accept that Hanson was out of his life forever. 

**

Hanson sat on the single bed and watched as the gate to his cell slammed closed.  Ellis had arranged to move him to a segregated cell, which was really just another name for solitary confinement.  He would eat alone, sleep alone and exercise alone and although he was now safe from Martínez and his gang, he wanted nothing more than to be back in his cell with Booker.  He was deeply concerned for his colleague’s state of mind and he feared that if left to his own devices, Dennis would self-destruct, either through drugs or through his own unstable mind.  Although he understood why Booker had initially pushed him away after the incident in the locked room, it frustrated him that he had been unable to convey to his friend that what happened had not changed his view of him in any way.  He did not think any less of Booker as a man because he had succumbed to Martínez’s instructions to bark like a dog, if anything, it had increased his feelings for the dark haired officer because he had only done it to protect him.  He now wished he had thanked him but at the time, the words seemed ineffectual in describing how he was actually feeling.  Dennis had probably saved his life that day and a simple thank you seemed completely inadequate, given what had happened.  It had been one of his foibles for as long as he could remember.  He had never been good at vocalizing his feelings and it was something his ex girlfriends often complained about ad nauseum.  Now, more than ever he wished he had learned how to open up and talk about his emotions because if he had, he and Dennis would still be friends.

Lying back on the bed, he stared morosely at the ceiling and contemplated his options.  They still had fifteen days until their preliminary hearing and that was a long period of time for Dennis to be constantly snorting heroin.  He needed an intervention and the only person Tom could think of that Booker might listen to was Fuller.  The only problem was that their commanding officer had not visited Dennis since his incarceration and the young officer understandably now had very anti feelings towards his superior.  However, it was the only idea that Tom could come up with apart from contacting Booker’s parents and he did not think that would be appropriate.

Closing his eyes, he sighed heavily.  He would speak to Mary Ellis in the morning and organize a phone call to his Captain but until then, all he had was his own imagination to get him through the days and he hoped his nightmares would abandon him and he would find peace within his dreams during the long, lonely nights.  



	25. In the Land of a Thousand Guilts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Hanson sat on the single bed and watched as the gate to his cell slammed closed.  Ellis had arranged to move him to a segregated cell, which was really just another name for solitary confinement.  He would eat alone, sleep alone and exercise alone and although he was now safe from Martínez and his gang, he wanted nothing more than to be back in his cell with Booker.  He was deeply concerned for his colleague’s state of mind and he feared that if left to his own devices, Dennis would self-destruct, either through drugs or through his own unstable mind.  Although he understood why Booker had initially pushed him away after the incident in the locked room, it frustrated him that he had been unable to convey to his friend that what happened had not changed his view of him in any way.  He did not think any less of Booker as a man because he had succumbed to Martínez’s instructions to bark like a dog, if anything, it had increased his feelings for the dark haired officer because he had only done it to protect him.  He now wished he had thanked him but at the time, the words seemed ineffectual in describing how he was actually feeling.  Dennis had probably saved his life that day and a simple thank you seemed completely inadequate, given what had happened.  It had been one of his foibles for as long as he could remember.  He had never been good at vocalizing his feelings and it was something his ex girlfriends often complained about ad nauseum.  Now, more than ever he wished he had learned how to open up and talk about his emotions because if he had, he and Dennis would still be friends._
> 
> _Lying back on the bed, he stared morosely at the ceiling and contemplated his options.  They still had fifteen days until their preliminary hearing and that was a long period of time for Dennis to be constantly snorting heroin.  He needed an intervention and the only person Tom could think of that Booker might listen to was Fuller.  The only problem was that their commanding officer had not visited Dennis since his incarceration and the young officer understandably now had very anti feelings towards his superior.  However, it was the only idea that Tom could come up with apart from contacting Booker’s parents and he did not think that would be appropriate._
> 
> _Closing his eyes, he sighed heavily.  He would speak to Mary Ellis in the morning and organize a phone call to his Captain but until then, all he had was his own imagination to get him through the days and he hoped his nightmares would abandon him and he would find peace within his dreams during the long, lonely nights._

**In the Land of a Thousand Guilts**  

Pressing his palms against the chipped tiled wall, Booker lowered his head and let the soothing warm water run over his head and shoulders and down his naked body.  The effects of the heroin he had snorted in his cell consumed his body, slowing his breathing and giving him a feeling of calmness and wellbeing.  Even when he felt a hand on his shoulder he did not jump, instead, he lifted his head and turned around leisurely, as though he had not a care in the world.

Wiping the water from his eyes, he gazed drowsily into CO Trent Matheson’s face and grinned.  “Geez Matheson,” he slurred in a sleepy voice.  “You pick _this_ day to come in and watch me shower.  Where were you when I was held down and forced to suck Martínez’s cock?”

Matheson had the grace to blush but he quickly hid his embarrassment.  “Hurry it up Booker,” he replied in a gruff voice.  “You’ve got a visitor.”

Dennis sighed and turned away.  “Haven’t you heard?  I don’t get visitors,” he murmured softly.  “Now leave me alone.”

Reaching into the shower, Matheson turned off the faucet.  “Well today’s your lucky day, you’ve got two,” he answered abruptly.  “So move your ass or I’ll tell them to leave.”

Curiosity finally got the better of him and stepping out of the shower, Booker quickly dried off and pulled on his clothing.  He figured it was probably his lawyer but he had no idea who the second person could be.  He hoped it was not his mom, as he could not bear to face her in his wasted state of mind.

Walking into the visitors’ room, he stopped when he saw Adam Fuller and Doug Penhall sitting on one side of a table.  Both men looked uncomfortable and Doug was chewing nervously on his thumbnail whilst his left leg jigged up and down.  For a fraction of a second Booker considered turning around and walking out.  However, when Fuller stood up and called him by his name, the small part of his soul that was still Officer Dennis Booker could not openly disobey his superior.  

Sighing heavily, he walked forward and pulling out a chair, he sat down, slouching low in the seat.  No one spoke for several moments until Fuller finally broke the silence.  “What’s going on Booker?” he asked in his usual direct fashion.  “Hanson tells me you’re using heroin.”

Booker’s foot tapped nervously on the floor and he folded his arms defiantly across his chest.  “Hanson needs to learn to keep his mouth shut,” he replied irritably.  

The sound of Fuller slamming his hand down heavily on the wooden table resonated around the room.  “You’re still under my command Booker!” he shouted angrily.  “When I ask you a question you’ll damn well answer it!”

Lowering his gaze, Dennis pouted sulkily.  “Sorry Cap’n,” he muttered moodily.

Surprisingly, Penhall took charge and tried to calm the situation.  “Look Booker,” he interjected in a quiet voice.  “I know you and I haven’t always got along but I’m worried about you and so is Tom.  He wouldn’t give me any details but it’s obvious something’s happened to both of you since being incarcerated and that, along with what happened with Bentley is enough to push any man over the edge.  But drugs?  Jesus Christ Booker, you’re better than that.  Don’t ruin your life—”

“My life’s already ruined,” Booker interrupted in a barely audible voice.

“No Booker, it’s not,” Fuller replied calmly.  “Neither you nor Hanson have been found guilty of a crime.  We’re still sifting through the adult movie shop and gathering evidence.  We have a good chance of proving that it was self defense, so don’t give up now.”

Dennis stayed silent and his eyes remained fixed on the floor.  He flinched when Penhall reached out and touched him on the arm but he lifted his head and returned his colleagues gaze.  

“Tom’s really upset that you’ve pushed him away,” Doug said in a soft voice.  “He doesn’t understand what he did wrong.”

For a fraction of a moment, Booker felt a pang of guilt, but it did not take long for him to push the remorse back into the deep recesses of his mind where it belonged.  He had made the break from Hanson and there was no turning back, no matter what happened.  Pulling his arm away from Penhall’s touch, he pushed back his chair and stood up.  “Tell Hanson I don’t want him talking about me anymore, not to you, not to anyone,” he replied petulantly.  “I want him to keep his nose out of my business, understood?”

Penhall’s eyes flashed angrily.  “Perfectly,” he replied crossly.  Standing up, he turned to face Fuller.  “I’m sorry Coach, but I won’t waste my time on someone who doesn’t want my help.”

Adam Fuller’s face suddenly looked old and he rubbed a hand over his tired eyes.  “Fair enough Penhall,” he replied wearily.  Getting to his feet, he tried one last time to reach out to Dennis.  “I’m here for you Booker, if you need anything—”

“I won’t,” Booker replied flatly.  “You didn’t bother to visit me before, why should I believe you care now?” Before Fuller could reply, Dennis turned his back on the officers and walked away.

**

Having spent seven days alone, confined to the small space of his cell and the foyer outside where he ate his meals, Tom was beginning to feel as though he was losing control of reality.  During the day, he suffered panic attacks.  He was nauseous, his heart pounded in his chest, his body trembled uncontrollably and he felt the overwhelming need to escape.  At night, sleep eluded him.  If he did manage to drift off he suffered debilitating nightmares and he woke screaming, his body drenched in perspiration.  As he lay in bed, gasping for breath, the night duty CO would stare silently at him through the bars of his cell before walking away.  Tom wished that Mary Ellis’ duty assignment was to the segregation unit but he had not seen her since leaving the medical wing a week ago.  On his second day in solitary, he had received a short visit from his attorney.  Derek Cameron had informed him that the police were still searching for Bentley’s partner, Edward and that they had several promising leads.  

However, it was Cameron’s final piece of information that brought Tom’s world crashing in around him.  The police were perusing boxes of videos in the hope of gathering evidence and Tom knew that it was only a matter of time before they found the video of him and Booker having sex.  Not long after receiving the news, he began to suffer the daily panic attacks that left him feeling emotionally and physically exhausted.  Coupled with the lack of sleep and the hours spent on his own, Tom knew he was reaching breaking point.  He desperately needed someone to talk to, someone he trusted who would not judge him but he felt too ashamed, too consumed with guilt to even consider telling Penhall or any of his other Jump Street colleagues.  Booker was the only one who understood but he was now a stranger to Tom, an enigma whose personality had not only gone full circle but had shot off into the new, scary direction of self-destructive behavior.  Hanson yearned to reconcile his relationship with Dennis but he knew it was extremely unlikely that they would ever have that close bond again.  There was too much water under the bridge, muddy water that had forever stained the fabric of their friendship.

Lying down on his bed, Tom pulled his knees up to his chest and stared vacantly at the grey wall in front of him.  In seven days they would know their fate; the judge at the preliminary hearing would decide if a crime had been committed and if either of the defendants was responsible.  Hanson had not changed his mind about pleading guilty if the judge did in fact decide there was a case to answer for, however he had no idea what Booker would do.  He hoped that Dennis would drop the façade of pretending that he had killed Bentley and then the court would release him and he could begin to put the torn fragments of his life back together.  The guilt Tom felt at agreeing to Booker’s original plan ate away at him constantly and he longed to be able to turn back time and admit right at the beginning that he was the guilty party.  However, as the old adage said _If wishes were horses then beggars would ride_.  There was no turning back time; he had to live every day of his life knowing that it was his actions that had irreversibly changed Booker forever and that no matter what he did, he could never take it back.

**

The only sound in the empty shower room was the constant drip, drip of a leaky shower head.  Hanging up his towel, Booker stepped unsteadily out of his boxers and stumbled into the shower.  His hand fumbled at the faucet but before he could turn it on, a callused hand touched his buttock.  Drawing in his breath, he turned his head and gazed groggily into Carlos Martínez’s black eyes.

“Hello puppy,” Martínez crooned softly against Booker’s ear.  “Did you miss me?”

Closing his eyes, Booker let out a sigh as Martínez’s hand reached around and began to stroke his cock.  He craved affection, any kind of affection and even though his sexual appetite had dwindled since snorting heroin, he longed to feel the touch of another human being.

Moving closer, Martínez pressed his naked body against Dennis’ back and nibbled at the flesh between his neck and shoulder.  “Aren’t you going to fight me puppy?” he asked huskily as he nipped and sucked at the taught flesh.  “Or maybe you’ve finally decided that you like what I do to you.  Is that it puppy?”

Bracing his hands against the tiled wall, Booker let out an excited moan as Martínez’s fingers skillfully teased his flaccid cock to life.  Carlos laughed softly and licked at Dennis’ ear.  “Mmm, I think puppy likes it,” he murmured as his erection pressed against Booker’s buttocks.  “Do you like this too?” he asked and shifting his position, he inserted the index finger of his other hand into Booker’s anus whilst continuing to stroke at his cock.

When Martínez’s probing finger found his prostate, Dennis let out a gasp and he pushed backwards, wanting more, _needing_ more.  Carlos grinned and withdrawing his finger, he pushed the tip of his cock against Booker’s opening.  “Ready puppy?” he whispered hoarsely and he dug his fingernails into Booker’s hip.

Dennis nodded, his shallow breathing echoing around the tiled walls.  He groaned loudly as Martínez entered him and his body shuddered in anticipation.  He was unaware of the prying eyes watching from the doorway, all he cared about was feeling wanted, feeling _loved_.  

Carlos began to rock his hips slowly forwards and backwards, taking his time and enjoying the tightness surrounding his cock.  His breathing became raspy and he increased his pace whilst his hand moved over Booker’s cock.  “Bark for me puppy,” he panted against Dennis’ neck and he smiled when he heard a soft yelping.  That he had so much power over another man caused a shiver of excitement to course through his body and he slammed his cock deeply in and out of Booker’s anus.  “That’s it puppy,” he panted.  “Bark for your master, good doggy, good doggy.”

Martínez’s hypnotic voice confused Dennis’ already addled mind and he continued to utter low yelping sounds as he felt his orgasm rising.  He let out a strangled howl as he shot his semen over the wall in front of him.  Seconds later, Martínez swore loudly and burying his cock deep inside of Booker’s body, he found his release.  When his body had shuddered out the last of his seed, he carefully withdrew and took a step backwards.  Tilting his head on one side, he stared in fascination at the man in front of him.  Booker stood with his legs spread and his hands braced against the wall.  His head hung low and he was panting in an almost animalistic way as tears poured down his cheeks.

Turning away, Martínez walked over to the wooden bench and pulled on his boxers.  In the years he had spent in and out of prison, he had raped many men but none of them had captivated him like Dennis Booker.  Looking at him now, gasping like a wounded animal, he wondered if he had pushed him too far.  Not that he cared.  Booker was a piece of meat, just as the others had been and he would continue to abuse him for as long as he remained within the confines of the jail.  



	26. Sex, Lies and Video Tapes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Moving closer, Martínez pressed his naked body against Dennis’ back and nibbled at the flesh between his neck and shoulder. “Aren’t you going to fight me puppy?” he asked huskily as he nipped and sucked at the taught flesh. “Or maybe you’ve finally decided that you like what I do to you. Is that it puppy?”_
> 
> _Bracing his hands against the tiled wall, Booker let out an excited moan as Martínez’s fingers skillfully teased his flaccid cock to life. Carlos laughed softly and licked at Dennis’ ear. “Mmm, I think puppy likes it,” he murmured as his erection pressed against Booker’s buttocks. “Do you like this too?” he asked and shifting his position, he inserted the index finger of his other hand into Booker’s anus whilst continuing to stroke at his cock._
> 
> _When Martínez’s probing finger found his prostate, Dennis let out a gasp and he pushed backwards, wanting more, needing more. Carlos grinned and withdrawing his finger, he pushed the tip of his cock against Booker’s opening. “Ready puppy?” he whispered hoarsely and he dug his fingernails into Booker’s hip._
> 
> _Dennis nodded, his shallow breathing echoing around the tiled walls. He groaned loudly as Martínez entered him and his body shuddered in anticipation. He was unaware of the prying eyes watching from the doorway, all he cared about was feeling wanted, feeling loved._
> 
> _Carlos began to rock his hips slowly forwards and backwards, taking his time and enjoying the tightness surrounding his cock. His breathing became raspy and he increased his pace whilst his hand moved over Booker’s cock. “Bark for me puppy,” he panted against Dennis’ neck and he smiled when he heard a soft yelping. That he had so much power over another man caused a shiver of excitement to course through his body and he slammed his cock deeply in and out of Booker’s anus. “That’s it puppy,” he panted. “Bark for your master, good doggy, good doggy.”_
> 
> _Martínez’s hypnotic voice confused Dennis’ already addled mind and he continued to utter low yelping sounds as he felt his orgasm rising. He let out a strangled howl as he shot his semen over the wall in front of him. Seconds later, Martínez swore loudly and burying his cock deep inside of Booker’s body, he found his release. When his body had shuddered out the last of his seed, he carefully withdrew and took a step backwards. Tilting his head on one side, he stared in fascination at the man in front of him. Booker stood with his legs spread and his hands braced against the wall. His head hung low and he was panting in an almost animalistic way as tears poured down his cheeks._
> 
> _Turning away, Martínez walked over to the wooden bench and pulled on his boxers. In the years he had spent in and out of prison, he had raped many men but none of them had captivated him like Dennis Booker. Looking at him now, gasping like a wounded animal, he wondered if he had pushed him too far. Not that he cared. Booker was a piece of meat, just as the others had been and he would continue to abuse him for as long as he remained within the confines of the jail._

  

**Sex, Lies and Videotapes**  

Adam Fuller sat at his desk with his head resting in his hands. He had never felt so old, so bone weary as he did at that precise moment. Only minutes before he had spoken to the detective in charge of Bentley’s murder case and the information he had received had stunned him so completely that he had remained speechless throughout most of the conversation. Now he had the unenviable task of informing Penhall about the latest evidence that had been uncovered. He supposed that the police had notified Tom and Dennis’ lawyers of the discovery and the findings would certainly help the young officer’s defense. However, Fuller was afraid that the knowledge that people now knew the full extent of what had happened inside the warehouse would push both of the young men over the edge. Booker was already spiraling out of control and the last time he had visited Hanson, he had found him nervous and barely coherent. 

Pushing back his chair, Fuller stood up and walked over to his open door. Looking out into the crowded main room of the Chapel, he saw Penhall and Ioki arm wrestling. He stood watching them for several minutes, dreading the moment when he would drop the bombshell that would inevitably send Penhall’s world crashing in around him. Hanson was Penhall’s best friend and the officer had barely coped when he witnessed the tapes of Tom’s rape. Now he was about to be told something far more disturbing and given Doug’s relationship with Booker, Fuller knew he would not take the news well.

Unable to delay the act any longer, Fuller slowly walked over to Doug’s desk. “I need to see you in my office Penhall,” he muttered in an unusually quiet voice.

Doug’s face showed the strain of his exertion. “Just a minute Coach,” he puffed as he struggled against Ioki’s hold. “I’m nearly—”

“NOW!” Fuller yelled loudly and Penhall was so surprised at the ferocity of his Captain’s command that he lost concentration and Ioki easily slammed his arm down against the desk.

The Chapel went silent and all eyes turned to Fuller. The Captain wiped his brow and managed a tense smile. “Sorry,” he apologized. “But it’s important.”

Standing up, Penhall silently followed his commanding officer across the room. Once inside his office, Fuller closed the door and motioned for Doug to take a seat. “I have some news from Detective Hoffman,” he muttered in a low voice. “They’ve found another tape.”

The muscles in Penhall’s face tightened as he clenched his teeth together. “Is it of Tommy?” he asked in a strained voice.

Sitting down at his desk, Fuller tried to keep his voice calm. “Yes. It’s a video of Tom and Booker together.”

Doug leapt to his feet. “ _WHAT?_ ” he shouted in disbelief. “What the hell does that mean?”

Fuller raised his hand and gestured for Doug to sit back down. Penhall remained standing for several seconds before taking his seat. “Tell me,” he demanded through gritted teeth.

Sighing heavily, Fuller leaned across his desk and spoke in a low voice. “The tape shows Tom tied to a bed and Booker having sex with him.”

This time Penhall could not contain his emotions. Jumping from his chair, he picked it up and threw it against the wall. “THAT FUCKING SON-OF-A-BITCH!” he screamed. “I’LL FUCKING KILL HIM!”

Too fatigued to reprimand his young officer, Fuller sat back and waited until Doug had calmed down. He was shocked when Penhall turned towards him and revealed a tear stained face. 

“He raped Tommy,” Doug choked before breaking down completely. Leaning against the wall, he covered his face in his hands and sobbed. “How could he do that? After everything Bentley did, how could he do the same thing?”

Standing up, Fuller walked around his desk and placed a comforting arm around Doug’s broad shoulders. “You’ve got it wrong Penhall,” he murmured. “From what I’ve been told, Booker was _made_ to do it. There was probably a gun pointed at them and he had no choice. This isn’t his fault and I don’t think Hanson blames him either so neither should we. We have to look at the positive. We have the tapes of Bentley raping Tom and now we have a tape of Bentley _forcing_ Booker to have sex with him. If this doesn’t prove self defense, I don’t know what will.”

Lifting his teary face, Doug gave his superior officer a hard look. “That’s a lie,” he spat. “Tom would have hated it and the only reason he doesn’t despise Booker is because he’s traumatized over everything that’s happened to him. I don’t care what you say, in my eyes Booker _raped_ Tom and if he ever gets out, he’s going to know pain like he’s never known before and that’s a promise.”

Fuller’s expression hardened. “I won’t have you threatening one of my officers,” he replied in a stern voice. “Is that understood?”

Penhall walked towards the door. “And how exactly are you going to stop me?” he muttered and before Fuller could reply, he walked out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

**

Lying on his bed staring up at the ceiling, Tom felt as though he was about to be sick. He had just received the news from his lawyer that the police had found the sex tape of he and Booker and that they had entered it into evidence. Now, all the sordid details of his captivity were there for the world to see. He would never be able to look any of his friends and colleagues in the eye again knowing that they knew everything that had happened to him. 

His body began to tremble and he wondered exactly _who_ had witnessed the tape of Booker fucking him. Sweat beaded on his brow as he remembered how Booker had brought him to orgasm and stumbling from the bed, he only just managed to reach the toilet before he vomited up his lunch. Leaning over the bowl, he began to sob, unable to dispel the deep feeling of shame that consumed him. Three video tapes would now define his whole life and his friends would never look at him the same way again. However, his feelings of humiliation were not because he and Booker had sex and he had enjoyed it; even though he knew his colleagues would never be able to accept that fact. The embarrassment he felt came from rejection; he had felt himself beginning to fall in love and now Dennis had cast him aside. The man who had stolen his heart, the man who had made love to him so gently, so lovingly, even though they were both under duress, had abandoned him and everyone would know that the incident in the warehouse had meant _nothing_ to Booker but that it had meant _everything_ to him.

Using the wall as support, Tom rose unsteadily to his feet and flushed the toilet. Turning on the hand basin faucet, he rinsed his mouth and cupped cool water over his flushed face. Standing up, he leaned against the basin and stared at his dripping reflection in the mirror. However, the ghostly apparition that stared back with dead, hollow eyes was a stranger to him. Turning away, he shuffled across the room and collapsing onto the bed, he resumed his study of the ceiling as he tried to block out the screaming in his head.

**

Returning to his cell after a visit with his lawyer, Booker pulled out the vial of heroin he kept hidden in his pillow and inhaled deeply. During the last few weeks, he had forgotten about the video recording of him making love to Tom and now all the memories of how he had felt came flooding back. It had not been just fucking to him, he had made love to Tom because that was what he had felt; love. Now, everything had changed. He was no longer the man he had been three weeks ago, he was a hollow shell with nothing left inside, no fear, no empathy and no love. By demoralizing and degrading him, Carlos Martínez had essentially stripped him of everything that made him human and he could no longer feel _anything_ inside unless he was high. Once the effects of the drug wore off, he was once again devoid of emotion. Heroin gave him the feeling of peace and it was then that he sought out Martínez’s _affections_. 

During the last two weeks, he had convinced himself that he was over Tom, that he had completely erased any memories of their sexual encounters from his mind. However, after hearing from his lawyer that the video had been found, the flood gates of his mind had opened and all the feelings and all the emotions he had felt when he had lain in Hanson’s arms came flooding back; he remembered Tom’s fingers tentatively stroking his cock and his warm breath murmuring against his ear _"come for me"_. 

Lying back against his pillow, he unzipped his jeans and began to fondle himself through his boxers. A soft moan escaped his lips as the image of Tom’s face, with eyes closed and lips parted floated into his mind. Releasing his cock from its confines, he tugged gently and his erection grew under the touch of his own fingers. “Tommy,” he murmured and his pace quickened. His hand jerked frantically up and down his shaft and he began to pant. The vision in his head changed and he saw Tom lying naked on the bed in the warehouse with his wrists tethered above his head. 

Biting down hard on his lower lip to stifle his scream, Booker ejaculated forcefully over his fingers. As the shuddering in his body subsided, tears filled his eyes and he choked back a sob. He missed Tom and he wished that he could hold him in his arms and tell him that he loved him and that he was sorry. However, as much as he wanted Hanson back in his life, he knew it would never happen; Martínez had seen to that. Tom would never view him in the same way again after he had given in to the deranged inmate’s commands. He had degraded himself in front of the man he loved and it had destroyed any chance they had of ever being together.

Tucking himself away, he stood up and walked over to the basin. After washing his hands, he gazed at his reflection in the mirror but he did not recognize the pale face staring back at him. It was the face of a monster, a demon that had abandoned Tom to the mercy of Martínez and the result was yet another rape.

Sighing heavily, he walked back to his bed and lay down. When he closed his eyes, he again saw Tom’s face, except this time he was smiling. Rolling onto his side, Booker immediately pushed the image away. He blamed his reminiscences on the heroin, it was making him have _feeling_ s for Tom again and that was not a good thing. He needed to quit being over emotional and face the harsh reality. Tom despised him and no matter how many drug-induced fantasies he had, nothing would ever change that.

**

Sitting in his apartment, Penhall poured himself another whiskey and drained half the glass in one long gulp. He was drunk, but not drunk enough to be able to push the images of Booker writhing on top of Tom whilst his friend screamed for help. As hard as he tried, he could not get the picture out of his mind and his grip increased around the glass in his hand. The words _Booker raped Tom… Booker raped Tom…_ echoed in his head and with a tormented yell, he threw the half-full tumbler at the wall. The glass shattered on impact and the dark liquid stained the wall. His body trembled with emotion and burying his face in his hands, he fought back tears. He loved Tom and the thought of him suffering such a degrading act at the hands of Dennis Booker was too much to bear. It was bad enough that Bentley had sexually assaulted Hanson but Booker was supposed to be a trusted colleague, even though he was not a friend. 

However, what haunted Doug most was that Tom was concerned about Booker’s welfare. He could not understand how Tom could feel anything but hatred towards Booker after what he had done to him. It was incomprehensible to Penhall and he worried about Tom’s metal state. Only a delusional person could have compassion towards their rapist and Penhall was now convinced that Hanson was suffering from a mental illness. 

Standing up he walked into the kitchen and soaked a dishtowel under the faucet before walking back into the living room. He scrubbed at the amber fluid on the wall before carefully picking up the broken pieces of glass and folding them into the towel. Returning to the kitchen, he threw the sodden cloth into the trash and grabbed another glass out of the cabinet. It was still early and he had half a bottle of Jacks left to drink. He hoped that by the time he was through, the alcohol would have obliterated the disturbing images from his mind.


	27. A Brief Reunion Before the Gavel Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **I would like to reiterate that I know _nothing_ about the US justice system. Therefore, I ask your forgiveness for any inaccuracies.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Sitting in his apartment, Penhall poured himself another whiskey and drained half the glass in one long gulp.  He was drunk, but not drunk enough to be able to push away the images of Booker writhing on top of Tom whilst his friend screamed for help.  As hard as he tried, he could not get the picture out of his mind and his grip increased around the glass in his hand.  The words Booker raped Tom… Booker raped Tom… echoed in his head and with a tormented yell, he threw the half-full tumbler at the wall.  The glass shattered on impact and the dark liquid stained the paintwork.  His body trembled with emotion and burying his face in his hands, he fought back tears.  He loved Tom and the thought of him suffering such a degrading act at the hands of Dennis Booker was too much to bear.  It was bad enough that Bentley had sexually assaulted Hanson but Booker was supposed to be a trusted colleague, even though he was not a friend._
> 
> _However, what haunted Doug most was that Tom was concerned about Booker’s welfare.  He could not understand how Tom could feel anything but hatred towards Booker after what he had done to him.  It was incomprehensible to Penhall and he worried about Tom’s metal state.  Only a delusional person could have compassion towards their rapist and Penhall was now convinced that Hanson was suffering from a mental illness._
> 
> _Standing up he walked into the kitchen and soaked a dishtowel under the faucet before walking back into the living room.  He scrubbed at the amber fluid on the wall before carefully picking up the broken pieces of glass and folding them into the towel.  Returning to the kitchen, he threw the sodden cloth into the trash and grabbed another glass out of the cabinet.  It was still early and he had half a bottle of Jacks left to drink.  He hoped that by the time he was through, the alcohol would have obliterated the disturbing images from his mind._

**A Brief Reunion Before the Gavel Falls**  

Pacing anxiously around his cell, Tom waited for Trent Matheson to arrive and escort him to general population. He had requested to see Booker so he could speak to him before their preliminary hearing. It had surprised him that Dennis had agreed and it gave him a glimmer of hope that perhaps they could begin to repair their shattered relationship. However, he felt nervous about entering general population after spending so much time on his own and he was terrified that he would suffer a panic attack. The last thing he wanted was Booker witnessing him falling apart.

Walking over to the mirror, he wiped at the sweat that had formed above his upper lip and stared at his reflection. Tortured eyes stared back at him and his pale, drawn face reminded him yet again, of how much his physical appearance had changed in such a short space of time. The black smudges under his sunken eyes were testament to his lack of sleep and no longer did he have the boyish, carefree look that had allowed him to join the elite Jump Street program. He was a shadow of his former self and he wondered if he would ever again be the Tom Hanson of old. 

Hearing the sound of footsteps, he quickly wiped away the tears that were glistening in his eyes. Matheson walked into the cell and gave him the once over. “You look like shit Hanson,” the hack sneered at him. “I doubt Booker will find you attractive now.”

Tom lowered his head in embarrassment. “Can we go?” he muttered. “We’ve only got a few minutes before we leave for the courthouse.”

Moving forward, Matheson leaned in close until his face was just inches from Tom’s. “Are you giving me orders Hanson?” he asked in a threatening tone. “Because chances are, you’re going to be back here tonight and I can always arrange for Carlos Martínez to come and tuck you in.”

Clenching his fists, Tom tried to calm his breathing. He could feel the beginnings of a panic attack coursing through his body and perspiration prickled his forehead as tears filled his eyes. “Please,” he gasped as he struggled to control his trembling body. “I just want to see my friend.”

Matheson gave him a disgusted look. “Geez Hanson, how the mighty have fallen. You were once some hotshot cop and now look at you; you’re nothing more than a sniveling crybaby. You make me sick.” 

When Tom silently wiped the tears from his eyes, Matheson gave him a withering look. “Come on, I’ll take you to see your boyfriend.”

Although anxious to see Booker, Tom could feel his stress levels rising. Blood pounded in his ears as he followed Matheson through the corridors towards general population. When the security gate slid open and he saw dozens of men moving around the compound, his breathing became rapid and his vision started to blur. He used all of his inner strength to pull himself together and prevent himself from passing out. He ignored the wolf whistles and crude comments as he trailed Matheson up the metal staircase. He was surprised when they turned left instead of right in the direction his old cell. As they approached the last cell, Tom’s blood ran cold; he was standing outside Martínez’s room.

Matheson smirked with amusement. “Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you. Booker bunks with Martínez now. It looks like they’ve become _real_ close.”

Tom’s stomach churned and he struggled to keep down the vomit that rose into his throat. Martínez and Booker were _together?_ Even though Hanson knew that Dennis was out of control, he would never have believed that he would willingly have capitulated to Martínez’s sexual advances. Carlos Martínez was a brutal man who took pleasure from dominating others until he had broken them down to submissive, mindless automatons that he could control and use for his own needs. It frightened Tom to think that Booker had given up the fight, that he had willingly become Martínez’s prag. Dennis Booker had always stood up and fought for what he believed in and now he was nothing more than a sex slave.

Having managed to get his emotions under control, Tom entered the cell. Martínez lay on the top bunk, smiling smugly whilst Booker stood naked at the basin brushing his teeth.

When Dennis showed no sign that he was aware that anyone else was in the room, Matheson spoke up. “Booker, you’ve got a visitor and for God’s sake, put some clothes on.”

Spitting out the toothpaste into the sink, Dennis wiped at his mouth and turned slowly around. His dead eyes showed no emotion when he saw Hanson standing in the open doorway. Walking over to his bed, he pulled on a pair of boxers and jeans before standing obediently at the top of the bunk so Martínez could reach down and stroke his hair. “What are you doing here?” he asked flatly.

“I—” Tom began softly, but his demeanor quickly changed when he saw Booker close his eyes and smile sleepily as Martínez gently played with his hair. “JESUS CHRIST BOOKER, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?” he yelled in frustration. “Why are you letting this man control you like this?”

Opening his eyes, Booker grinned lazily. “What’s the matter Hanson, are you jealous?” he slurred in a drug-induced voice.

Charging across the room, Tom pulled Booker from Martínez’s touch and slammed him against the opposite wall. “You need to fucking wake up!” he screamed into Dennis’ face. “Don’t let him do this to you! Don’t let him destroy your life!”

“That’s enough Hanson,” Matheson warned and stepping forward, he pulled Tom forcefully away. “Your visit’s over, you can resume your tête-à-tête at the courthouse. Now move it.”

Turning towards Martínez, Tom gave the inmate a scathing look. “At least make sure he’s not high for his court appearance,” he spat. “He needs to be lucid so he knows what’s going on.”

Martínez smiled complacently. “And why would I do that _Tommy? _” he chuckled. “He’s much more compliant when he’s stoned and that’s the way I like him.”__

__Tom turned away and stormed out the cell, followed closely by Matheson. However, as he descended the metal stairway, a small smile played over his lips. Martínez may not realize it, but he was not the only one who could manipulate to get what he wanted. Reverse psychology was a wonderful thing and Martínez had taken the bait hook, line and sinker. Tom _wanted_ Booker high on drugs at the hearing because if he were stoned, he would be less likely to object when Tom pleaded guilty. If Booker did not contradict his claim that he had killed Bentley, then his attorney could move to have him released on the grounds that there was no evidence against him._ _

__Tom had only one objective, to get Booker released. He wanted him out of the clutches of the deranged Martínez and if that meant that he had to take Booker’s place, then he was prepared to do it. All he cared about was saving his friend._ _

**

____

Judge Benedict James focused his attention on Tom. “If I accept your guilty plea you will be convicted of the crime to which you are pleading guilty today and you will not have a trial. Do you understand?”

____

Tom cast his eye at Booker, who had remained silent throughout the hearing. “Yes Your Honor, I understand,” he replied quietly.

____

Judge James sighed heavily. He was surprised that Officer Hanson had entered into a plea bargain when he stood a very good chance of a jury acquitting him during at trial. He studied the young man in front of him and considered his options. He could accept the guilty plea and sentence him for the crime of voluntary manslaughter, which carried a maximum sentence of eleven years. Alternatively, he could reject the plea and suggest that Hanson plead without a negotiated agreement, giving him the option to issue a lighter sentence. 

____

Making his decision, he once again addressed Tom. “Officer Hanson, I hereby reject your plea of guilty of the crime of voluntary manslaughter and hereby suggest that you enter a plea without a negotiated agreement. Do you understand?”

____

Derek Cameron leaned towards Tom and whispered in his ear. Lifting his head, Tom nodded. “Yes Your Honor and I will agree to enter a plea without a negotiated agreement.”

____

The judge suppressed a smile. “So noted,” he replied. “Sentencing is a week from today at 11 a.m.” Turning his attention to Booker, he delivered his verdict. “Officer Booker, given the evidence before me, I believe that you played no part in the killing of Rory Arthur Bentley and I hereby dismiss all charges against you. You are free to go.” Tapping his gavel, he stood up. “Court is adjourned.”

____

Jumping from his seat in the back of the courtroom, Penhall began to yell abuse at Booker. Captain Fuller quickly ushered him from the room before the court bailiff could reprimand him. Pulling himself free from Adam’s hold, Doug could not keep his rage contained. “That _SON-OF-A-BITCH!_ ” he yelled. “He raped Tom and he stood there and let him take the fall. I’ll kill him! I’ll fucking kill him!”

____

Escorting Penhall from the courthouse, Fuller found a bench and motioned for Doug to sit down. Penhall resisted for a moment until he saw the warning look on his superior’s face. Breathing heavily, he took a seat and waited for Fuller to speak.

____

“Booker didn’t rape Tom and as much as you don’t want to accept the fact Penhall, Hanson’s guilty of manslaughter,” he explained calmly and when Penhall attempted to interrupt him, he waved a warning finger at his young officer. “Let me finish,” he commanded before continuing. “Hanson killed Bentley; I know it and deep down you know it. Tom was lucky, the judge is on his side and he’ll receive a very light sentence. Booker went to jail in an attempt to _protect_ Tom, not to try to frame him. His life has change irrevocably because of his selfless act. You should be thanking him, not threatening him. He should be commended for what he did for Tom.”

____

Doug lifted his head and gave Fuller a tortured look. “Tom’s going to prison,” he whispered and tears filled his eyes.

____

Fuller swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. “I know,” he replied softly. “And it’s our job to stand by him every step of the way.”

____

**

____

____

Arriving back at the jail, Hanson walked silently behind Trent Matheson. As soon as he had entered the building, he felt a tightness around his chest and he struggled to keep his breathing under control as he began to panic. It took all his will to succumb to the strip search and he bit down on his lower lip and closed his eyes as a finger probed deep inside his body. When it was over, he redressed and followed the CO out of the room and down the long corridor. When they passed the entrance leading to the segregation unit, he stopped in confusion. “Hey,” he called out in a shaky voice. “My cell’s down here.”

____

Matheson turned around and grinned. “Not anymore pretty boy,” he sneered. “You’re back in _gen pop_ and do you want to guess who your new cellmate is?”

____

All the color drained from Tom’s face and his body began to tremble. “Y-you can’t b-be serious?” he stammered, as his eyes grew wide with fear. “If you put me with Martínez he’ll rape me. Don’t you understand? He’ll fucking _rape_ me!”

____

“Yeah well, them’s the breaks,” Matheson muttered dispassionately. “If it’s not you it’ll be someone else. Now move your ass, my shift’s about to end.”

____

Stumbling down the corridor, Hanson could barely breathe. For the next week his nights would be spent locked in a cell with a brutal rapist. Once sentenced, he would enter a state prison and who knew what horrors awaited him there.

____

**

____

____

_One week later_

____

Tom awoke to the feeling of light fingers playing with his cock. “Move over,” Martínez breathed against his ear. “I’m horny.”

____

Hanson had given up fighting days before and he obediently moved across the thin mattress. “That’s my beautiful boy,” Martínez moaned against Tom’s neck as he fondled him through his boxers. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’re gonna beg me to let you come. Do you like the sound of that prag?”

____

Tom’s eyes stared vacantly in front of him. “Yes sir,” he muttered in a barely audible voice.

____

Martínez laughed. “Good boy,” he wheezed and sitting up, he pulled off Tom’s boxers. “You really are such a pretty little thing,” he moaned as he tugged at Tom’s scrotum and sucked on his nipple. “I’m gonna miss you when you’re gone.”

____

Hanson remained silent as he felt Martínez bend up his knees and spread open his legs. He flinched slightly when a rough finger entered him and dry lips kissed his mouth. As Martínez’s tongue forced its way between his lips, he tried not to gag; he had done that once and received a severe beating for it. Instead, he used his imagination and pretended that it was Booker kissing him. He had become so proficient at losing himself in the lie that he was often genuinely surprised when the act was over and he opened his eyes to the horror that it was Martínez lying on top of him and not Dennis.

____

The rough finger withdrew from his body and he felt the tip of Martínez’s erection pressing against him. He knew what Martínez expected of him and taking a deep breath, he uttered the detested phrase, “Please sir, I want you to fuck me.”

____

Carlos Martínez groaned loudly and rammed his cock deep inside Hanson’s body. As he rocked his hips forward and backwards, he bit viciously into the flesh of Tom’s chest. Hanson remained motionless, not uttering a sound as his cellmate violated his body and mind. Lifting his head, Martínez stared down at him with crazy eyes. “I want you to come prag, do you hear me? I want to hear you scream.”

____

Closing his eyes, Tom allowed his Booker fantasy to take hold. When Martínez shifted position he let out a moan as the large cock buried deep in his body stimulated his prostate. His cock started to swell and precum leaked from the tip. As Martínez increased his pace, he felt his orgasm rising. He pictured Booker’s face with his long dark hair hanging in his dark eyes and it was that image that pushed him over the edge. With a yell, he ejaculated forcefully over his stomach. He yelled again when Martínez bit down hard on the flesh between his neck and shoulder and semen shot deep inside his body. Turning his head away, he choked back a sob as his fantasy bubble burst and his mind came back to the reality that it was Martínez buried deep inside him and not Booker.

____

____

When the Latino’s body finally stopped shuddering, he rolled off Tom and onto the mattress beside him. “I’m gonna miss your tight little ass chico,” he panted. “But I’m sure you’ll find someone to take care of you when you reach the big house.”

____

Turning to face the wall, Tom allowed silent tears to leak from his eyes. Today was the day he found out his fate. Today was the beginning of the end of his life.

____


	28. Welcome to Purgatory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Carlos Martínez groaned loudly and rammed his cock deep inside Hanson’s body. As he rocked his hips forward and backwards, he bit viciously into the flesh of Tom’s chest. Hanson remained motionless, not uttering a sound as his cellmate violated his body and mind. Lifting his head, Martínez stared down at him with crazy eyes. “I want you to come prag, do you hear me? I want to hear you scream.”_
> 
> _Closing his eyes, Tom allowed his Booker fantasy to take hold. When Martínez shifted position he let out a moan as the large cock buried deep in his body stimulated his prostate. His cock started to swell and precum leaked from the tip. As Martínez increased his pace, he felt his orgasm rising. He pictured Booker’s face with his long dark hair hanging in his dark eyes and it was that image that pushed him over the edge. With a yell, he ejaculated forcefully over his stomach. He yelled again when Martínez bit down hard on the flesh between his neck and shoulder and semen shot deep inside his body. Turning his head away, he choked back a sob as his fantasy bubble burst and his mind came back to the reality that it was Martínez buried deep inside him and not Booker._
> 
> _When the Latino’s body finally stopped shuddering, he rolled off Tom and onto the mattress beside him. “I’m gonna miss your tight little ass chico,” he panted. “But I’m sure you’ll find someone to take care of you when you reach the big house.”_
> 
> _Turning to face the wall, Tom allowed silent tears to leak from his eyes. Today was the day he found out his fate. Today was the beginning of the end of his life._

**Welcome to Purgatory**  

Standing in line with his hands and feet shackled to an adjoining chain, Tom felt as though he was in a dream. Judge James’ words echoed in his head. _“Thomas James Hanson, I hereby sentence you to a term of three years imprisonment to be served at the California State Prison. You will be eligible for parole in one year.”_ Hanson knew that he was extremely lucky; the sentence could have been as high as eleven years. However, he had barely survived a month in jail and he could not imagine spending the next year of his life living in constant fear. His persona had changed dramatically during his time in jail and no longer was he the happy, carefree Tom Hanson that he had been only a few short months ago. He was now timid and anxious and the effects of the change in his personality showed in his physical appearance. His weight had dropped dramatically because he barely ate and rarely slept. He had bitten his nails down to the quick, dark smudges blackened his eyes and he had developed the nervous habit of chewing on his lower lip. Tears constantly threatened to spill from his tortured eyes and he scarcely spoke. He was no longer a human being; he was an object, just a toy for others to play with. As the line of men moved forward, Tom attempted to block out what was happening. He knew the routine, the strip search came first and then the shower, all in front of the prying eyes of the correctional officers. However, no matter how hard he tried, he could still hear the taunting comments and feel the probing hands violating his already abused body. A hack snorted when he saw the bite marks covering his body. “Mmm,” the man chuckled as he trailed a finger down Tom’s bruised body. “Looks like someone’s a tasty treat.” Laughter echoed around the room and Tom automatically lowered his eyes in submission. He stepped into the shower and tilting his head back, he let the cascading water hide the tears that fell from his eyes. Never in his life had he felt so alone, not even when he was in solitary. He was trapped inside a living nightmare and he wondered if he would ever wake up and be free from the torture. 

**

_Six months later_

Brushing his teeth at the small hand basin in his cell, Hanson suddenly felt a large hand cup his genitals. “Hurry up pretty boy,” Jeffrey Talbot whispered in his ear. “I wanna play.”

Lifting his head, Tom stared blankly at the reflection of the man standing behind him. Talbot had been his cellmate since he had left the evaluation unit and joined general population and the wiry, tattooed man had wasted no time in claiming him as his prag. A convicted murderer, Talbot took pleasure in cutting Hanson’s body with a homemade shiv and sucking the blood before sexually assaulting him. In the six months that Tom had been at the penitentiary, barely a day had gone by where he had not suffered some form of abuse. By far the worst had been the gang rape that had occurred on the second morning of his incarceration in _gen pop_ and the assault had been so brutal that he had spent a week in the infirmary, healing from his injuries. After a psychiatric evaluation, the doctor had prescribed him antidepressants to help with his high levels of anxiety. However, the downside to taking the drug was that it made him more compliant and he had therefore become an easy target for Talbot.

Spitting out his toothpaste, Tom wiped a hand over his mouth and followed Talbot over to his bunk. Stripping off his boxers, he sat on the edge of the bed and waited. Talbot quickly undressed and moving forward, he placed his hands on either side of Tom’s head. “Suck me,” he instructed in a low, husky voice.

Moistening his cracked lips, Hanson leaned forward and took Talbot’s large, semi erect cock into his mouth. As he moved his lips up and down the long shaft, he could feel Talbot stroking his hair. “Yeah,” the inmate breathed as he rocked his hips forwards and backwards. “Suck me with that pretty mouth.”

Tom knew exactly the right moment to stop. He had been pleasuring Talbot for six months and he knew the man wanted to be hard but not close to orgasm. Parting his lips, he pulled back and moving backwards onto his bed, he lay down. Bending up his knees, he spread open his legs. Talbot kneeled in between his open thighs and pulled out the shank that lay hidden in the seam of the mattress. His blue eyes glinted with excitement as he placed the blade beneath Tom’s nipple. “Ready for some fun pretty boy?” he murmured and pressing down against the soft skin of Tom’s chest, he opened up a two inch wound. Blood immediately bubbled to the surface and leaning forward, he lapped and sucked at the amber fluid.

Lifting his head, he perused Tom’s scarred torso until he found a piece of undamaged skin. Again, he used the blade to slice open the silky flesh, this time making the wound much deeper. Blood seeped out of the cut and trickled down Tom’s thin body. Grinning manically, Talbot ducked his head and licked at the flowing juices, savoring the salty taste against his tongue. When he was sated, he lifted his head and sat back, his eyes gazing longingly at Tom’s naked body. “Do you want me to suck you pretty boy?” he asked softly.

Although Tom stared back vacantly, his head gave an almost imperceptible nod. Running his fingers up and down Tom’s semi erect cock, Talbot gave him a serious look. “You know what I have to do before I suck you?” he teased softly.

Tom nodded again and a huge smile split open Talbot’s face. Adjusting his grip on the shank, he placed it against Tom’s perineum and began to make several short, shallow cuts across the tender flesh. Hanson flinched slightly but he made no sound. Satisfied with his handy work, Talbot bent forward and slowly licked the blood that had seeped to the surface. His tongue moved upward and when his mouth sucked at Tom’s sac, he grinned when he heard a low groan. He then licked Tom’s cock from root to tip before engulfing him in his hot mouth. Tom cried out and bucked his hips forward but he immediately stopped when he received a stinging blow to the side of his head. “You almost choked me you little bitch,” Talbot scolded him.

Fear filled Tom’s eyes and he began to chew furiously on his lower lip. He did not want to make Talbot mad; the last time he had pissed him off, he had ended up in the hospital with several broken ribs.

Seeing Tom’s distress, Talbot’s expression softened somewhat but his eyes remained deranged. “You know I’m gonna have to punish you for that,” he crooned softly. “What’s it gonna be, huh? You’ve got two choices, I fuck you and then I fist you or I organize two or three of my buddies to join us for a private party. Your choice brown eyes.”

Tears leaked from the corner of Tom’s eyes and he stifled a sob. “F-fisting,” he stammered. He wanted the punishment over and done with and he knew he could not cope with another gang rape.

Talbot licked his lips in anticipation. “But first we’re gonna fuck,” he chuckled. “And you’d better not come until I tell you to.”

“I w-won’t,” Tom whispered and when he felt Talbot’s cock entering his body, he closed his eyes and thought of Booker. It was a dangerous game to play because thoughts of Booker increased his chances of coming before Talbot gave him permission. However, if he let his mind acknowledge the sexual abuse, he knew he would go slowly mad. This was his way of surviving the horrors he endured.

Talbot’s grunts became louder and Tom concentrated on not losing control. His cock wept heavily from the anal stimulation and he bit down hard on his lower lip. Blood assaulted his taste buds and he took delight from the salty flavor. For a moment, he wondered if he was becoming as licentious as Talbot was but the thought quickly vanished when he heard a scream of delight as his cellmate reached his orgasm. He felt his abuser’s body shuddering against him and his heart began to pound for what was about to come.

Talbot withdrew his softening cock and grinned down into Tom’s frightened eyes. “Good boy,” he murmured, when he saw Hanson’s erection lying against his belly. “I’m gonna let you come now and then I’m gonna ram my fist so far up your ass you’ll be screaming for mercy.”

Although terrified, Tom closed his eyes and allowed himself to take pleasure from Talbot jerking him off. His climax was forceful and semen coated his stomach. However, the gratification was short lived as Talbot inserted first one finger and then a second into his anus. He suppressed a cry of pain as the third, and fourth finger entered him without the use of any lubrication.

Once he had inserted his thumb, Talbot began to rotate his hand until it was completely inside. He then began to move his hand in and out, being careful not to touch Tom’s prostate. This was not about giving pleasure, it was about causing pain and as Tom’s rectal wall tore, blood seeped out and coated Talbot’s hand. Laughing manically, he stared into Hanson’s anguished face and continued his torture. Only when Tom’s head lolled to one side as he passed out, did Talbot stop. Removing his hand, he stared at the bloodstain on the blanket beneath Tom’s body and grinned. That would teach the little bitch to ram his cock down his throat.

Standing up, he washed his hands and climbed up onto the top bunk. He felt no concern for the battered body lying beneath him and closing his eyes, he fell asleep with a clear conscience.

**

Opening his eyes, Tom groaned in pain. Reaching down, he gently probed his aching anus and his fingers came away bloody. Struggling to a sitting position, he remained seated until the room stopped spinning. Getting carefully to his feet, he stumbled over to the toilet and ripping off a large wad of toilet paper, he soaked it under the faucet and attempted to clean himself up. The pain inside him was excruciating and he wondered how much internal damage he had suffered.

Throwing the bloodied toilet paper into the lavatory, he walked unsteadily back to his bunk. His stomach lurched when he saw blood and semen covering his blanket and ripping it from the mattress, he threw it across the room. Climbing into bed, he pulled the thin sheet up to his chin and closing his eyes, he concentrated on trying to stop his body from shaking. Not for the first time, thoughts of suicide entered his mind. It would be so easy to take the shiv and slit his wrists and his pain would be gone forever. No one would care, he had pushed his friends away months ago, refusing their visits and destroying their letters before he had even read them. His mother was too preoccupied with her new boyfriend to bother driving the hundred and twenty mile round trip to visit him. There was only one person who prevented him from taking his own life and that person was Booker. Since his release, Tom had not had any contact with the man who now plagued his every thought. However, he knew he could not leave the earth’s mortal plain without ever seeing the dark haired officer again. When he was still receiving visits from Penhall, he had asked after Booker’s welfare but no one at the Chapel had seen him since his release. There were rumors that he had left the state but Fuller had not received a formal resignation so no one really knew for sure.

Hot tears leaked from Tom’s closed eyelids. The only thought that prevented him from losing his mind completely was the belief that one day, he and Booker would reunite and that they would repair their shattered relationship.


	29. Free Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Opening his eyes, Tom groaned in pain. Reaching down, he gently probed his aching anus and his fingers came away bloody. Struggling to a sitting position, he remained seated until the room stopped spinning. Getting carefully to his feet, he stumbled over to the toilet and ripping off a large wad of toilet paper, he soaked it under the faucet and attempted to clean himself up. The pain inside him was excruciating and he wondered how much internal damage he had suffered._
> 
> _Throwing the bloodied toilet paper into the lavatory, he walked unsteadily back to his bunk. His stomach lurched when he saw blood and semen covering his blanket and ripping it from the mattress, he threw it across the room. Climbing into bed, he pulled the thin sheet up to his chin and closing his eyes, he concentrated on trying to stop his body from shaking. Not for the first time, thoughts of suicide entered his mind. It would be so easy to take the shiv and slit his wrists and his pain would be gone forever. No one would care, he had pushed his friends away months ago, refusing their visits and destroying their letters before he had even read them. His mother was too preoccupied with her new boyfriend to bother driving the hundred and twenty mile round trip to visit him. There was only one person who prevented him from taking his own life and that person was Booker. Since his release, Tom had not had any contact with the man who now plagued his every thought. However, he knew he could not leave the earth’s mortal plain without ever seeing the dark haired officer again. When he was still receiving visits from Penhall, he had asked after Booker’s welfare but no one at the Chapel had seen him since his release. There were rumors that he had left the state but Fuller had not received a former resignation so no one really knew for sure._
> 
> _Hot tears leaked from Tom’s closed eyelids. The only thought that prevented him from losing his mind completely was the belief that one day, he and Booker would reunite and that they would repair their shattered relationship._

**Free Falling**  

 _Six months later_

The Hearing Examiner from the Parole Commission sat silently staring at prisoner TZ988. He had asked all the relevant questions and had listened intently as the young, pale faced man in front of him had spoken in a quiet, nervous voice. After several minutes, he made his deliberation. “Tom Hanson, it is my recommendation that your application for parole be granted. You will receive a Notice of Action advising you of the official decision within twenty-one days. Do you understand?” Tom lifted his head but there was no smile, no demonstration of joy, he just nodded his head in acknowledgment. As he packed up his paperwork, the Examiner let out a sigh as he watched the CO escort Hanson from the room. He had been in the job long enough to know that prisoner TZ988 was now a broken man. The system had failed him and in all likelihood, he would never fully recover from his experiences on the inside. Picking up his briefcase, he walked slowly from the interview room. He had another hearing that day and he wondered if that prisoner would wear the same haunted expression that Hanson had or if he was one of the lucky few who had managed to get through their sentence unscathed. 

**

 _Twenty-five days later_

Sitting on his bunk clutching a brown paper bag that contained his meager possessions, Tom waited for a CO to escort him to reception to finalize his paperwork. He would then be a free man, whatever that meant. In a physical sense, when he walked out of the gates of the prison his body would be liberated but his mind would never be free of the torture he had endured. 

Hearing footsteps, he looked up but his expectation turned to fear when Talbot walked into the cell. Squatting down on the floor next to him, the burly inmate gazed deep into Tom’s eyes. “I’m gonna miss you pretty boy,” he murmured softly and taking the paper bag and throwing it to the floor, he reached out and fondled Tom’s genitals through his jeans. “How about one for the road?”

Gathering up all his inner strength, Tom removed the man’s hand. “No,” he replied in a shaky voice.

Tilting his head on one side, Talbot narrowed his eyes. “Are you sassing me boy?” he asked in a menacing tone. “Because I thought you would have learned by now that you do _what_ I say, _when_ I say it. It’s not too late for me to give you a beating.” With lightening speed, he reached out and grabbing Tom around the throat, he began to squeeze. “Listen to me prag,” he whispered in a low voice. “If I want to fuck you I’ll—”

“That’s enough Talbot,” CO Alex McCafferty warned as he walked into the cell. “Pick up your things Hanson, it’s time to go.”

When Talbot released his hold, Tom rubbed briefly at his neck before standing up. Leaning down, he picked up his belongings and walked over to the open doorway. He wanted to say so much to the man who had tormented him for twelve months but he no longer possessed the strength of mind to do it. Instead, he took one last look at his oppressor before lowering his eyes and walking from the room.

**

When the metal security gate slid open, Tom walked outside into the bright L.A. sunlight and stopped several feet from the entrance. He was standing in a large car park and he suddenly remembered that he had not notified anyone of his release. Not that there was anyone _to_ notify. His mother had moved to Oregon and he had lost contact with his friends. He was completely alone and he had nowhere to live. The sum total of his wealth was the fifty-three dollars and seventy-five cents that he had in his pocket. He had used up all his savings procuring an attorney and his apartment had long since been re-leased. Mary Ellis had given him the addresses of several homeless shelters but the thought of having to live again in close quarters with dozens of men made his skin crawl. He would sleep on a park bench rather than run the risk of another man molesting him.

Gathering his bearings, he started to walk in the direction of the main road. It was then, out of the corner of his eye, that he caught sight of a familiar car. He stopped dead and turning around, he stared in confusion at his blue, 1968 Mustang. His eyes grew wider when the door opened and Doug Penhall stepped out of the car and gave him a lopsided grin.

Twelve months before, Tom’s eyes would have filled with tears at the sight of his friend standing in front of him. However, twelve months was a long time to have suffered daily rapes and countless beatings and he was now devoid of such emotions. Instead, he moved slowly forward and placed the brown paper bag on the trunk of his car. “Hey Doug,” he greeted in a flat voice.

Penhall’s emotions got the better of him and tears filled his soft brown eyes. “Tommy,” he choked and rushing forward, he attempted to pull his friend into a hug. Tom immediately shrank away from the contact and Doug could not hide his hurt expression. “Aren’t you happy to see me?” he asked in a wounded voice. “I know you didn’t want me visiting but I’m still your friend.”

Feeling a little guilty, Tom managed a forced smile. “Of course you are,” he replied softly. “I’m just a little surprised to see you here.”

Never one to hold onto a grudge with his friends, Penhall grinned happily. “I bet you never expected to see your Mustang again either. I made the payments for you whilst you were… well anyway, you now own it outright. I couldn’t afford to keep paying your rent, so I had to let your apartment go but you can live with me, at least until you’re back on your feet again.”

Hanson knew he should show his appreciation for all that his friend had done but he was just so tired, so utterly defeated that all he could manage was a small nod. Doug’s grin slowly faded and he held out the car keys. “Do you want to drive?” he asked quietly.

Shaking his head, Tom picked up his belongings and climbed into the passenger seat. He hoped Penhall would not try to make idle conversation. After a year confined inside the prison, he felt somewhat uneasy now that he was released, almost agoraphobic. He could feel the beginnings of a panic attack and he began to take in deep, calming breaths. Nurse Collins had taught him several techniques to try to help him reduce his anxiety and he immediately deployed the second part of his therapy, _guided imagery_. Closing his eyes, he imagined that he was in his old apartment watching television with Booker by his side. He focused on the details; they were watching an old western and two open beer bottles sat on the coffee table in front of them. He could see Dennis’ dark unruly hair and he could even _smell_ him; the scent of soap coupled with the faint hint of leather from the black jacket that he wore constantly. With the image firmly in his mind, his breathing gradually slowed and when the trembling in his body began to subside, he let out a relieved sigh.

Unclenching his fists, he opened his eyes to see Doug sitting in the driver’s seat staring at him. Embarrassment flushed his cheeks and he immediately ducked his head so his long bangs hid his eyes. Penhall continued to stare, bewildered by Tom’s behavior. Clearing his throat, he laid a hand on Tom’s knee but immediately pulled back when Hanson jerked away from his touch. “Jesus Tommy,” he murmured in a worried voice. “Are you okay?”

“Can we go?” Tom replied in a slightly trembling voice. “I just want to leave this place behind me.”

Doug gave Tom a reassuring look. “Sure pal,” he replied hurriedly. “Whatever you want.” Turning the key in the ignition, he drove out of the car park. As they turned onto the highway, he cast another glance at Tom. Hanson sat with his head resting on the back of the seat and he had his eyes closed. His palms lay flat on his thighs but Penhall could see that his hands were trembling. It was a shocking sight to see his friend so tense, especially on a day when he should have been rejoicing. He was free and he once again had a future to look forward to, even if it was not in the police force. Doug could not understand why Tom was acting so morose.

Exiting off the highway, he tried to lighten the mood. “So, are you hungry?” he asked cheerfully. “I bet you’re craving a pizza right about now. Or maybe you’d prefer Chinese? We’ll get whatever you feel like, my shout.”

Sighing heavily, Tom turned his head and looked at Penhall. “Look Doug, I know you’re just trying to be helpful,” he replied in a weary voice. “But I don’t want pizza or Chinese or anything else. I just want to put my head down and go to sleep and not have to be afraid that…” His words trailed off and he turned away and stared out of the window at the houses flashing past. He hoped that Doug would let the matter drop but it was not to be.

“Afraid of what?” Penhall asked in a quiet voice but suddenly the meaning became clear. “Oh God Tom, not again! Don’t tell me you were—”

“Don’t!” Tom interrupted through gritted teeth. “Don’t ask me what happened in there and for fuck’s sake don’t ask me if I’m okay. I’m not going to talk to you about it, not now, not ever. I just want to be left alone. Do you understand? I want to be left the fuck alone.”

Shaken by Tom’s coldness, Penhall nodded. “Okay Tommy, whatever you want,” he replied softly. As he concentrated on the road ahead, he came to the sad realization that Tom Hanson, the man he considered his best friend, no longer existed.

**

Tom lay in Doug’s queen sized bed, listening to the sound of a hockey game that floated up from the floor below. Penhall had insisted that he was happy on the couch and that Tom should have the bed, at least for the first night. Although grateful, Tom was unable to show his appreciation. When he had climbed the steps up to the mezzanine floor, he had found dozens of cardboard boxes littering the small area, all with his name written on the top in Doug’s untidy scrawl. Kneeling down on the floor, he had opened the first one and found his clothes lying in disarray inside. Turning to the second box, he found his photo albums and various other mementos. Doug had obviously cleaned out his apartment and kept all of his belongings for him, knowing that one day, he would need them back.

For the first time since leaving prison, tears had filled his eyes. His possessions felt as unfamiliar to him as his own reflection did when he looked in the mirror. He was a stranger, a nowhere man who did not belong in the life Tom Hanson had built. He was no longer a police officer and since his mother had moved away, he no longer felt like a son. His friends had moved on with their lives and he was not a part of their new adventures. He did not even know if the Jump Street program still existed. Doug would forever remain loyal but the closeness that they once shared was gone, destroyed because of circumstances, or perhaps they had drifted apart because they were never destined to remain friends forever. Maybe there had always been an expiration date on their friendship and his incarceration had just hastened the inevitable.

Staring up at the ceiling, Tom’s thoughts turned to Booker. He had desperately wanted to ask Penhall what he knew about Dennis’ whereabouts but he did not think the timing was right. His and Doug’s relationship was strained and he needed to take the time and learn to relax around his friend before he started quizzing him about a man he knew Doug despised. He was well aware that Doug still blamed Booker and he knew he needed to tread warily. However, he could feel his impatience rising. Booker was the only man who understood what he had been through, the only man who knew what it was like to have your dignity stripped away and know that you allowed it to happen, that you gave up the fight and surrendered. It was a bitter pill to swallow and Tom was finding it increasingly difficult to come to terms with.

Closing his eyes, he sank into the comfort of the soft mattress. Tonight he was safe. Tonight he could sleep without fear of molestation. Tonight he could dream and he hoped those dreams were of a man with dark hair and dark eyes, holding him close and whispering that soon, they would be together.


	30. Barely Holding On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: For the first time since leaving prison, tears had filled his eyes. His possessions felt as unfamiliar to him as his own reflection did when he looked in the mirror. He was a stranger, a nowhere man who did not belong in the life Tom Hanson had built. He was no longer a police officer and since his mother had moved away, he no longer felt like a son. His friends had moved on with their lives and he was not a part of their new adventures. He did not even know if the Jump Street program still existed. Doug would forever remain loyal but the closeness that they once shared was gone, destroyed because of circumstances, or perhaps they had drifted apart because they were never destined to remain friends forever. Maybe there had always been an expiration date on their friendship and his incarceration had just hastened the inevitable._
> 
> _Staring up at the ceiling, Tom’s thoughts turned to Booker. He had desperately wanted to ask Penhall what he knew about Dennis’ whereabouts but he did not think the timing was right. His and Doug’s relationship was strained and he needed to take the time and learn to relax around his friend before he started quizzing him about a man he knew Doug despised. He was well aware that Doug still blamed Booker and he knew he needed to tread warily. However, he could feel his impatience rising. Booker was the only man who understood what he had been through, the only man who knew what it was like to have your dignity stripped away and know that you allowed it to happen, that you gave up the fight and surrendered. It was a bitter pill to swallow and Tom was finding it increasingly difficult to come to terms with._
> 
> _Closing his eyes, he sank into the comfort of the soft mattress. Tonight he was safe. Tonight he could sleep without fear of molestation. Tonight he could dream and he hoped those dreams were of a man with dark hair and dark eyes, holding him close and whispering that soon, they would be together._

**Barely Holding On**  

Strong hands gripped at Tom’s shoulders and he awoke screaming in terror. Lashing out, he used all his strength to punch his attacker in the face. He heard a cry of pain and he took his opportunity and quickly scrambled from the bed in an attempt to get away. Suddenly the room was flooded with light and looking up, he saw Penhall standing by the light switch, holding his aching jaw. The tightness around Tom’s chest slowly eased and he felt a mixture of relief and embarrassment. Standing up, he walked over to Doug and tried to smile. “Sorry,” he muttered uncomfortably. “I probably should have told you that I have nightmares.”

Moving his jaw from side to side, Doug was satisfied that there was no real damage and he managed a small grin. “I heard you screaming and I tried to wake you up,” he confessed. “I guess I’ll poke you with a stick from across the room next time.”

It was a weak joke but Hanson knew he should acknowledge it so he gave a fake smile. “That would probably be safer for both of us.”

Studying Tom’s pale face, Penhall did not pull any punches. “Jesus Tom, you really do look like shit,” he informed his friend bluntly. “How often do these nightmares wake you up?”

Lowering his gaze, Tom rubbed nervously at his top lip. “I dunno,” he mumbled. “Three, maybe four times a night.”

Sitting down on the bed, Doug motioned for Tom to sit next to him. “You need to speak to someone, a therapist maybe, someone who can help you come to terms with… well you know.”

Digging his nails into the palms of his hands, Tom tried to stay calm. Penhall was only trying to help but he made it sound as though a few quick sessions with a psychologist would fix all his problems. “I don’t need a shrink Doug,” he replied quietly. “I need to find Dennis.”

At the mention of Booker’s name, Penhall’s face darkened. He had not forgotten about the tape that the police had found in the adult movie store, the tape of Booker having sex with Tom. Although he had not watched the video, his mind had conjured up images that he could not shake. Over time, he had slowly come to accept the fact that Bentley had forced Booker to do what he had done to Tom but deep down, Penhall knew that Booker had enjoyed it. Dennis had come close to admitting that he had feelings for Tom when they had argued outside of Hanson’s apartment. Booker had made the comment _“the reason I’m trying to help Hanson is because I’m concerned about him, not because I want to fuck him,”_ but Penhall now knew that statement was not completely true. Booker had _always_ wanted Hanson in his life and it now appeared that he might get his wish.

Keeping his voice calm, Penhall asked one simple question, _“Why?_ ”

Tom’s eyes widened in disbelief and jumping from the bed, he began to pace around the room, his agitation clear as he raked his fingers through his hair. “Why?” he echoed angrily. “Why the hell do you think? Dennis is the only person who knows _exactly_ what I’ve been through because he lived through the same hell I did! You have no idea what they did to him Doug, what he put himself through to protect _me!_ He was innocent but he chose to go to jail so he could watch over me. Who the hell does that, huh? Who the fucking hell _does_ that?”

Unable to keep quiet any longer, Penhall lost his temper. “Are you blind?” he yelled angrily. “He did it because he’s in love with you! He did it because he wants to fuck you!”

A pink hue tinged Tom’s cheeks but he stared unwaveringly at the man who not so long ago, he considered his best friend. “He’s already fucked me,” he replied quietly. “And we’ve shared experiences, _sexual_ experiences, so I guess if you can’t accept that, I’d better find somewhere else to live.”

The color drained from Doug’s face and he stared openmouthed at his friend. “You and Booker are in a _relationship?_ ” he cried out in disbelief. “But Tom, you’re not gay!”

A sad smile played over Tom’s lips. “I knew you wouldn’t understand,” he muttered in disappointment. “It’s not about being gay or straight, it’s about two people, me and Dennis. I don’t feel anything for other men but I do feel something for Booker. I can’t explain it, he’s… different.”

“DIFFERENT?” Doug yelled and standing up, he stood in front of Tom so that their faces were just inches apart. “He’s a fucking predator! What he did to you is no different to what Bentley and those men did! He’s a rapist! A fucking rap—”

Throwing back his arm, Tom punched Penhall square on the jaw. The larger man stumbled backwards but the strike was not forceful enough to knock him to the ground. Charging forward, he grabbed hold of Tom and threw him onto the bed. Straddling Tom’s legs, he forced his arms up above his head and pinned them to the mattress. “Calm down!” he yelled, as Tom struggled beneath him. 

Panic constricted Tom’s chest and he fought to break free. Flashbacks of callused hands holding him down whilst he was raped flashed into his mind and he completely lost control. “DON’T HURT ME!” he screamed hysterically as he thrashed his head violently from side to side. “OH GOD, NO! DON’T RAPE ME! DON’T RAPE ME!”

Tom’s words were so shocking to Doug that he quickly released his grasp and scrambled from the bed. He stood staring down in horror as Tom’s body trembled uncontrollably and he struggled to catch his breath. His brown eyes bulged in terror and he appeared to be hallucinating. “Please don’t… please don’t… please don’t,” he sobbed repeatedly whilst staring at some invisible apparition in front of him.

“Shit!” Doug exclaimed in alarm and grabbing up the phone, he dialed 911. “I need an ambulance!” he yelled. It was obvious that Tom had suffered a breakdown and that he was in need of professional help. After giving his address, Doug slammed down the phone and stood looking down at his friend. Tom had curled into the fetal position but he was still muttering the same words over and over to his unseen attacker. Too frightened to make contact, Penhall sat on the end of the bed and waited for the paramedics.

**

Hearing noises, Tom struggled to open his eyes. Sitting up, he stared groggily around the small cubicle and he quickly realized that he was in hospital. He had no recollection of how he had ended up there, his last memory was of arguing with Doug and then everything went blank. Running a trembling hand through his hair, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and attempted to stand up. The room swam in front of his eyes and he collapsed to the floor. Moments later, strong arms helped him to his feet. “What do you think you’re doing?” a female voice asked sternly. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Once back on the bed, Tom lay down and gazed up into the bright blue eyes of a middle-aged nurse. Her harsh expression softened when she saw tears filling his eyes. “It’s okay sweetheart,” she murmured whilst tucking the blanket around his trembling body. “You’ve had a breakdown, that’s all. You’ll be right as rain soon enough.”

Memories of the previous night slowly filtered back into Tom’s mind. _The argument… him striking Doug… Doug pushing him onto the bed… the feeling of another body on top of him… the fear that he was about to be raped… the sound of screaming…_ Closing his eyes, he sank back against the pillow and started to sob. A gentle hand stroked his hair and for the first time in months, he felt the comforting touch of another human being. The only contact he had experienced in over a year had been rooted in violence and domination. To experience the soothing caress of another’s hand was almost too much to bear and tears streamed down his cheeks. He felt the mattress depress and strong, reassuring arms pulled him into a tight embrace. “Shh honey,” the nurse crooned softly as she held him to her breast. “We’re going to get you the help you need.”

Lifting his tear stained face, Tom choked back a sob. “My friend, is he okay?” he asked in a worried voice.

The nurse smiled. “He’s pacing the hallway outside,” she replied. “Would you like to see him?”

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Tom nodded. The nurse stood up and disappeared out of the curtain that surrounded his bed. Minutes passed before a hand pulled back the screen and Doug entered the small cubicle.

Seeing the concern in Doug’s eyes, Tom managed a weak smile. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but emotion quickly overwhelmed him and covering his face in his hands, he began to weep. 

Tears filled Doug’s eyes and sitting down on the bed, he pulled Tom to his chest and held him close. “No _I’m_ sorry,” he apologized. “I should have been a better friend. I admit it, I don’t understand this thing with you and Booker but if he makes you happy, then I’m happy. So, starting tomorrow, I’ll see what I can find out about him. All I know is that the department sacked him after he failed to return to work.”

Tom gazed at Doug in disbelief. “You’d really do that?” he asked quietly.

Blinking back his tears, Doug gave Tom his trademark lopsided smile. “Hey pal, what are friends for?” he replied in a silly voice.

For the first time in months, Tom returned a genuine smile. “Thanks Doug,” he whispered. “It really means a lot.”

“No problem,” Doug replied but deep down, he wondered if finding Booker was the best thing for Tom’s mental health.

**

Tom spent three days in hospital under the care of the resident psychologist Doctor Richard Farmer. Although reluctant to open up about what had happened to him, Tom respected the man’s approach. He was calm and patient and he gave his full support when Tom mentioned his desire to find Booker. It was that fact alone that had Tom agreeing to continue with the therapy outside of the hospital. It was not easy for him to discuss his feelings with _anyone_ and especially not a stranger. However, he felt comfortable with Doctor Farmer and he was certain that given time, he would be able to speak openly about all the horrors he had experienced.

Arriving back at Penhall’s apartment, Tom sat on the couch and chewed nervously at his bitten down nails. He was desperate for information about Booker but he was too afraid to ask. His leg jiggled impatiently as Doug walked into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of beers. When his friend returned and handed him an open bottle, Tom smiled his thanks but inside, his mind was screaming. He needed information on Booker and he needed it now.

Sitting down, Doug held up his beer. “To friendship,” he saluted and leaning forward he clinked his bottle against Tom’s.

“To friendship,” Tom repeated softly before taking a long swig of the cool, amber fluid. When Doug did not speak again, he noisily cleared his throat. 

Sensing Hanson’s agitation, Penhall placed his beer on the coffee table and turned towards his friend. “I’ve got some news,” he stated quietly.

Tom had been waiting for this moment for twelve long months. It felt like an eternity since he had seen his friend and now that he was finally about receive the information he had been longing to hear, he suddenly felt nervous. Chewing on his lower lip, he gave Doug an impatient look. “Well?” he asked eagerly. “Where is he?”

Doug glanced at Tom and gave him an uneasy smile. “You’re never going to believe it,” he replied quietly. “According to my sources, he’s living in Nevada and um, well… he’s working as a correctional officer.”


	31. In Search of Salvation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Arriving back at Penhall’s apartment, Tom sat on the couch and chewed nervously at his bitten down nails. He was desperate for information about Booker but he was too afraid to ask. His leg jiggled impatiently as Doug walked into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of beers. When his friend returned and handed him an open bottle, Tom smiled his thanks but inside, his mind was screaming. He needed information on Booker and he needed it now._
> 
> _Sitting down, Doug held up his beer. “To friendship,” he saluted and leaning forward he clinked his bottle against Tom’s._
> 
> _“To friendship,” Tom repeated softly before taking a long swig of the cool, amber fluid. When Doug did not speak again, he noisily cleared his throat._
> 
> _Sensing Hanson’s agitation, Penhall placed his beer on the coffee table and turned towards his friend. “I’ve got some news,” he stated quietly._
> 
> _Tom had been waiting for this moment for twelve long months. It felt like an eternity since he had seen his friend and now that he was finally about receive the information he had been longing to hear, he suddenly felt nervous. Chewing on his lower lip, he gave Doug an impatient look. “Well?” he asked eagerly. “Where is he?”_
> 
> _Doug glanced at Tom and gave him an uneasy smile. “You’re never going to believe it,” he replied quietly. “According to my sources, he’s living in Nevada and um, well… he’s working as a correctional officer.”_

**In Search of Salvation**  

Tom stared vacantly out of the window as the Greyhound coach sped along the highway. It had taken him three days of arguing with Penhall before he had finally convinced his friend that going to find Booker would help him with his recovery. Doug had flatly refused to allow Tom to drive to Nevada; instead, he had given him a substantial amount of money and told him to purchase a bus ticket. Tom had not argued the point, as he knew he was not physically capable of driving on his own. Since leaving prison, he had taken himself off his antidepressants without consulting a doctor and he now suffered extreme restlessness, dizziness, fatigue, and various other symptoms. He was also prone to uncontrollable crying spells and although he was terrified of breaking down on the bus in front of dozens of strangers, he knew that traveling by coach was the safest option. He was still rational enough to know that he was riding an emotional roller coaster and that if he had a mind snap, it would be too easy to turn the wheel of his Mustang and slam the car into a tree just to end all the pain and misery that continuously plagued him.

Shifting slightly in his seat, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep but unwanted images floated around in his mind; _Bentley tying him to the table, his evil face grinning manically… Martínez standing in front of him, his large erection waiting to be sucked… Talbot lying on top of him, a cruel smile playing over his full lips… Booker on all fours, barking loudly as tears streamed down his beautiful face…_

With a start, Tom’s eyes flew open and he struggled to draw breath. Fear immediately consumed his mind and he started to hyperventilate. Balling his hands into fists, he fought against the panic attack but he could not control it. Several passengers turned their heads and stared at him as he began to cry. A dark skinned woman sitting several seats in front of him, stood up and walking to the front of the bus, she spoke to the driver. As the coach pulled onto the shoulder of the road, the woman walked back up the aisle and squatting down she smiled kindly at Tom. “Are you okay sweetheart?” she asked in a soft voice.

Struggling to breathe, Tom shook his head violently from side to side as tears coursed down his cheeks. Being careful not to add to Tom’s distress, the woman refrained from touching him. Instead, she used soft, comforting words to try to calm him down. “What can I do to help?” she asked quietly. When she received no answer, she slowly stood up and sat down in the vacant seat next to him. “Would you like me to hold your hand?” she persisted in a placating tone. Tom managed a small nod of his head and the woman reached out, took his trembling fingers in her own and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Slow, deep breaths,” she instructed softly. “Just listen to the sound of my voice and concentrate on your breathing.”

Tom tried to do as the woman directed but he was aware of dozens of pairs of eyes staring at him curiously and his anxiety increased. He was nothing more than a freak show, the half time entertainment to break up the boredom of the long journey. Humiliation swelled within him and his sobbing increased whilst his body trembled uncontrollably. However, through all the panic and shame, he could feel the sensation of the woman’s gentle caress and gradually, his breathing slowed and the tightness in his chest subsided. Looking up, he saw compassionate green eyes gazing at him. “Sorry,” he mumbled as he wiped the tears from his face. “I’m—”

The woman shook her head. “No need to explain honey,” she replied with a smile. “We all have our crosses to bear.”

Hearing footsteps, she turned her head and watched as the coach driver approached. “Is everything okay back here?” the overweight driver asked in a voice tinged with irritation. “I’ve got a schedule to keep you know.”

Glancing back at Tom, the woman squeezed his hand. “Are you feeling better sweetheart?” she asked gently.

Blowing his nose, Tom nodded his head. The coach driver exhaled noisily and made his way back down the aisle. “Okay folks, it looks like we’re good to go,” he called out in a loud voice. “Sorry for the delay.”

Tom blushed in embarrassment and he ducked his head so he could avoid the accusatory stares from the annoyed passengers. He was surprised when the woman remained seated next to him whilst continuing to hold his hand. Lifting his head, he smiled gratefully. “Thank you,” he murmured quietly.

Squeezing his fingers, the woman smiled serenely. “Baby,” she replied softly. “Don’t thank me, just get well, okay?”

Leaning back against the headrest, Tom closed his eyes. “I’m trying,” he whispered. “I’m really trying.”

Eventually, the hum of the road and the comforting sensation of the woman’s hand grasping his fingers lulled him into a light sleep. He did not suffer any more nightmares; instead, visions of Booker’s beautiful face consumed his dreams.

**

Alighting from the coach, Tom hugged the woman who had remained by his side throughout the rest of the journey. Placing a palm against his pale face, the woman gazed deep into his troubled eyes. “The offer still stands Tom,” she said in a tender voice. “If you need a place to stay, you have my address.”

Tears filled Tom’s eyes but he quickly blinked them away. “You’ve done enough Lily,” he replied with a grateful smile. “I’ll never forget you.”

Kissing Tom lightly on the forehead, the woman picked up her bag and disappeared into the crowded terminus. Checking his watch, Tom decided to find his motel and get some sleep. He had no idea what hours Dennis worked but he had made the decision to turn up at his apartment in the early evening. Although he had a phone number, he could not bring himself to dial it. The thought of Booker slamming the phone down when he heard his voice was too much for him to bear. At least if they were face to face, he had a chance of pleading his case.

Throwing his backpack over his shoulder, he wandered out of the bus station and hailed a cab. He gave the name of the motel that Penhall had recommended and stared out of the window as the car wound its way through the afternoon traffic. Pulling up outside a pleasant looking establishment, he paid the driver and climbed out of the car. Having booked in at reception, he unlocked his room and threw his bag onto the floor. The weather was warm and he longed to take a shower and freshen up. Closing the curtains, he stripped off his clothes and padded into the bathroom. He paused for a moment and studied himself in the large mirror that hung on the back of the door. Scars crisscrossed his chest and torso, a daily reminder of the torture that Talbot had inflicted upon him. Dark shadows framed his haunted eyes, his pallid skin looked haggard and staring at his reflection, the joke was not lost on him. He had spent the majority of his working life passing as a teenager and now he looked older than his twenty-four years.

Reaching into the shower, he turned on the faucets and stepped under the tepid water. Lowering his head, he allowed the harsh spray from the shower head to beat down upon his aching shoulders. As the tension in his muscles slowly eased, his fingers fondled his cock and he silently pleaded with his body to feel _something_. Since leaving prison, he had been unable to gain an erection and he did not know if his body was finally reacting to the yearlong abuse or if it was a side effect of stopping his antidepressants. When his cock remained flaccid, tears of frustration filled his eyes and slamming his palm angrily against the tiled wall, he covered his face in his hands and wept. He longed to feel something other than pain, fear and misery; he just wanted to be Tom.

**

Awakening from a nightmare, Tom’s naked body dripped with perspiration. Sitting up in bed, he struggled to catch his breath as his heart hammered painfully in his chest. Self-pity overwhelmed him and unwelcome tears spilled from his eyes. Collapsing back onto the mattress, he curled into a ball and sobbed into his pillow. He was just so tired, so emotionally exhausted that he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and never wake up. He no longer knew how to exist in a world that had stripped him of everything he held dear, his job, his home and most importantly, his friends.

Sitting back up, he wiped his eyes and walked into the bathroom. Avoiding his reflection, he turned on the shower and quickly washed the stale sweat from his body. Turning off the faucets, he stepped out of the cubicle and quickly toweled himself dry. He walked back into the bedroom and reaching into his backpack, he grabbed out a clean pair of boxers and a white t-shirt and pulled on his jeans. As he laced up his Doc Martens, he glanced at the luminous dial of the digital radio and he felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach. It was only a short walk to Booker’s apartment complex and now that the time was almost near, he felt apprehensive at seeing his friend after so long apart. They had not spoken since their conversation in Martínez’s cell prior to their preliminary hearing. Booker had been so high on heroin that Tom doubted if he even remembered their exchange of words. However, he remembered them verbatim and the derision in Booker’s voice as he had slurred, _“What’s the matter Hanson, are you jealous?”_ haunted him in his nightmares. He _had_ been jealous and the thought of Booker gaining pleasure from Martínez had made him feel physically sick. Now, his greatest fear was hearing Dennis use the same mocking tones when he saw the apparition of the man who had once been Tom Hanson, standing before him.

Holding out his hands, Tom stared at his trembling fingers. He considered finding a bar and downing a couple of quick whiskeys to steady his nerves but he quickly pushed the thought aside. Alcohol was not the answer and it would be too easy to use it as a crutch in the same way Booker had used heroin to block out the pain inside. If Booker rejected him, he needed to accept it and move on. If he did not start trying to pick up the pieces of his shattered life, he was destined to remain a broken man.

Strapping his watch to his wrist, he shrugged on his jacket and pocketing the motel key, he picked up the piece of paper with the directions to Booker’s apartment and exited the room.


	32. Pasts and Futures Collide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Awakening from a nightmare, Tom’s naked body dripped with perspiration.  Sitting up in bed, he struggled to catch his breath as his heart hammered painfully in his chest.  Self-pity overwhelmed him and unwelcome tears spilled from his eyes.  Collapsing back onto the mattress, he curled into a ball and sobbed into his pillow.  He was just so tired, so emotionally exhausted that he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and never wake up.   He no longer knew how to exist in a world that had stripped him of everything he held dear, his job, his home and most importantly, his friends._
> 
> _Sitting back up, he wiped his eyes and walked into the bathroom.  Avoiding his reflection, he turned on the shower and quickly washed the stale sweat from his body.  Turning off the faucets, he stepped out of the cubicle and quickly toweled himself dry.  He walked back into the bedroom and reaching into his backpack, he grabbed out a clean pair of boxers and a white t-shirt and pulled on his jeans.  As he laced up his Doc Martens, he glanced at the luminous dial of the digital radio and he felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach.  It was only a short walk to Booker’s apartment complex and now that the time was almost near, he felt apprehensive at seeing his friend after so long apart.  They had not spoken since their conversation in Martínez’s cell prior to their preliminary hearing.  Booker had been so high on heroin that Tom doubted if he even remembered their exchange of words.  However, he remembered them verbatim and the derision in Booker’s voice as he had slurred, “What’s the matter Hanson, are you jealous?” haunted him in his nightmares.  He had been jealous and the thought of Booker gaining pleasure from Martínez had made him feel physically sick.  Now, his greatest fear was hearing Dennis use the same mocking tones when he saw the apparition of the man who had once been Tom Hanson, standing before him._
> 
> _Holding out his hands, Tom stared at his trembling fingers.  He considered finding a bar and downing a couple of quick whiskeys to steady his nerves but he quickly pushed the thought aside.  Alcohol was not the answer and it would be too easy to use it as a crutch in the same way Booker had used heroin to block out the pain inside.  If Booker rejected him, he needed to accept it and move on.  If he did not start trying to pick up the pieces of his shattered life, he was destined to remain a broken man._
> 
> _Strapping his watch to his wrist, he shrugged on his jacket and pocketing the motel key, he picked up the piece of paper with the directions to Booker’s apartment and exited the room._

**Pasts and Futures Collide**  

Standing outside of Booker’s apartment building, Tom chewed nervously on his lower lip.  Now that he was finally there, he began to feel apprehensive about seeing Booker again.  From the information that Doug had given him, it appeared that Dennis had managed to get his life back on track and Tom worried that turning up unannounced on his doorstep might cause his friend unnecessary heartache.  The last thing he wanted was to bring to the surface any unwanted memories that Booker might have buried deep within his psyche.  He was not there to cause his friend any pain; he was there to try to rekindle their friendship.

Taking a deep, calming breath, he walked into the building and up the wide staircase to the second floor.  Checking the number on the crumbled piece of paper in his hand, he walked down the long corridor and stopped outside of apartment 216.  A tight knot had formed in the pit of his stomach and he could feel the beginnings of a panic attack coursing through his body as he started to perspire and his hands trembled uncontrollably.  Closing his eyes, he counted slowly to ten and attempted to control his labored breathing.  It would be so easy to turn around and walk away but he knew that if he did, he would live with the regret for the rest of his life.

Without allowing himself anymore time to overthink the situation, he lifted his hand and rapped his knuckles on the door.  He rubbed at the sweat that had beaded on his upper lip and waited nervously.  A long, interminable minute passed and just as he was about to walk away, the door flew open.

The first thing Tom noticed was that Booker was dressed in his blue prison guard uniform and the second thing he noticed was how beautiful he looked.  His dark hair was shorter than Tom remembered and his body more defined.  However, what had not changed was his dark, almost black eyes that widened in shock when he saw who was standing on his doorstep.

Tom’s lip twitched into an uneasy smile and he cleared his throat nervously.  “Hey Dennis,” he murmured quietly.

Booker stared at Hanson as though he had seen a ghost.  “Tommy?” he whispered disbelievingly.  “Jesus Christ.”

An uncomfortable silence hung heavily in the air and Tom rubbed a trembling hand over his mouth before speaking in a quavering voice.  “I know I should have rung or something,” he mumbled.  “But I—”

“That’s okay,” Dennis interrupted and stepping back from the door, he managed a forced smile.  “Come in.”

The welcome was not how Tom imagined it would be.  Dennis seemed aloof, almost wary and as he entered the messy apartment, he began to regret his decision to come to Nevada.  He had remained stuck in the past, clutching to memories that had faded over time for those who had moved on.  Too much time had passed and the emotions he had clung to during his long internment were obviously no longer as fresh in Booker’s mind and he wondered if his friend had even thought about him during the twelve months they had been apart.

Profound embarrassment crippled him and hot tears burned at his eyes.  Turning away, he stumbled blindly towards the open door but strong hands pulled him back and he found himself embraced against Booker’s muscular body.  “Oh baby,” Booker choked and he squeezed Tom tightly against him as though he never wanted to let him go.  “I’m so sorry I left you, I’m so fucking sorry I left you!”

The tears that had been threatening to fall finally spilled from Tom’s eyes and he hugged his friend tightly as he sobbed with a mixture of pain and relief.   Minutes passed before Booker gently disengaged himself and wiped away Tom’s tears with his thumb.  “Oh Jesus Tommy,” he whispered as he gazed into Tom’s haunted eyes.  “What have they done to you?”

Fresh tears filled Tom’s eyes and he shrugged his shoulders.  “You know what it’s like,” he mumbled and walking over to the large window, he stood and stared out at the traffic below.  “Every night he strips away another piece of your soul until there’s nothing left and you no longer care what he does to you.”

“Oh my God,” Booker gasped in shock.  “Every night?  You were raped _every night?_ ”

“Yeah,” Tom replied candidly.  It was the first time he had spoken about the rapes and although it was difficult to keep his emotions in check, he knew that Booker understood completely how he felt.  It was a bond they shared and they would continue to share it for the rest of their lives.

A gentle hand caressed his shoulder and turning around, he rested his head against Booker’s chest and closing his eyes, he took comfort from the sensation of fingers playing with his hair.  “God I’ve missed you,” he breathed.  “I’ve yearned for this day, for twelve long months.”

As soon as the words tumbled from his lips, the contact was lost when Booker stepped away.  “Tom,” Dennis muttered uncomfortably.  “I don’t know what you expect from me but it’s been a long time and—”

“You’ve moved on?” Tom shot back angrily.  Pushing past Dennis, he began to pace the room in agitation.  “Well lucky you!  But guess what?  I _can’t_ move on!  When I close my eyes, I see every one of those bastards that raped me.  I can still feel them lying on top of me.  Hell!  I can still _smell_ them, the stench of their breath and the foul scent of their semen!  My mind is completely fucked up, my spirit is broken but through it all, I thought I still had _you!_   Thoughts of you were the only thing that kept me going; they were what prevented me from picking up a razor blade and slicing it across my wrists.  But hey, it’s all good ‘cause _you’ve_ moved on.  Well fuck you!  _FUCK YOU_ , YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!”

Booker looked on in horror as Tom began to scream hysterically as he picked of pieces of furniture and threw them across the room.  Frightened that he might hurt himself, Dennis ran forward and wrestled him to the ground.    

“NO!  NO! NO!” Tom yelled and he struggled to break free from Booker’s hold.  “GET OFF ME!  GET OFF _ME!_ ”

Raising his hand, Booker slapped Tom across the face.  The stinging blow had the desired effect and Tom stopped struggling.  Lying panting on the floor, he gazed up at Booker with eyes filled with confusion.  “Help me,” he whispered.  “Oh God Dennis, please help me.”

Climbing off Tom’s prone body, Booker sat on the floor and pulled Tom into his arms.  “Of course I’ll help you Tommy,” he murmured tenderly.  “Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

Relaxing into Dennis’ strong arms Tom closed his eyes and sighed softly.  For the first time in over twelve months, he no longer felt afraid to fall asleep.  However, his slumber was short lived when he heard Booker’s voice whispering in his ear.  “Tommy, you need to wake up, I have a shift at the prison.”

Opening his eyes, Hanson sat up and rubbed awkwardly at his upper lip.  “Sorry,” he muttered as he scrambled to his feet.  “I’ll go.”

Standing up, Booker draped an arm around Tom’s shoulders and led him over to the couch.  “I’m not asking you to leave,” he said with a smile.  “You’re more than welcome to stay but I have to go to work.  Have you eaten?”

Tom shook his head.  He could not actually remember his last meal but he figured it must have been at Penhall’s apartment.  Reaching into his pocket, Booker pulled out several notes and handed them to Tom.  “Order yourself a pizza,” he instructed with a smile.  “The number’s on the refrigerator.  If you feel tired, you can sleep in my bed, I’ll be home in the morning.”

Studying Booker’s blue uniform, Tom gave his friend a quizzical look.  “How can you stand working there?” he asked quietly.  “After everything that happened to you, why would you want to do it?”

Booker raked his fingers through his hair and looked somewhat uncomfortable.  “No one should have gone through what we went through Tommy,” he replied quietly.  “I want to protect the vulnerable prisoners from the predators.  So I guess if I can prevent one inmate from going through what we did then it makes the job worthwhile.”

Tom nodded his head but his expression remained uncertain.  “I get it,” he murmured softly.  “But I still don’t know how you do it.  I can’t even sleep at night without waking up screaming.”

Sitting down next to Tom, Dennis stared at him intently.  “Are you taking any medication?” he asked directly.  “Antidepressants or sleeping tablets?  ‘Cause you know, they could really help you.”

Lowering his eyes, Tom shook his head.  “I was, but I stopped,” he confessed.  

Reaching out, Booker brushed Tom’s long bangs from his eyes.  “Maybe that wasn’t the best idea,” he counseled quietly.  “I think you should talk to a doctor about it.”

The memory of his breakdown and his brief stay in hospital made Tom blush and he shrugged his shoulders noncommittally.  “Maybe,” he replied quietly, not wanting to admit that he had lied to Doctor Farmer by telling him he was still taking his meds.  It worried him how compliant he became when he was medicated and now that he was a free man, he wanted to remain alert so that no one could take advantage of him again.

Sighing quietly, Booker stood up.  “Are you sure you’ll be okay here on your own?” he asked, the memory of Tom talking about slashing his wrists still fresh in his mind.

Although Tom did not want Booker to leave, he gave a reassuring smile.  “I’ll be fine,” he answered before giving Dennis a sheepish look.  “Plus, it’ll give me a chance to clean up the mess I made.  I really am sorry about that.”

Booker looked around at the broken pieces of furniture that littered his apartment.  “Yeah well,” he replied cheekily.  “I never was one for housework so feel free to vacuum if you want.”

A genuine smile spread over Tom’s face and he let out a small laugh.  “In your dreams,” he answered back and for a fraction of a moment, the tension in the room disappeared and they were just two friends teasing each other.

Although uneasy at leaving Tom alone, Booker left the apartment.  As he walked to his car, he could not help but worry about what the future held now that Tom had shown up on his doorstep.  His life was the best it had ever been and if he was honest with himself, he really did not know if he wanted Tom to be a part of it.  Through extensive counseling, he had put all the horrors of the past year behind him as well as kicking his heroin habit.  Now, the man who had shared every moment of his pain was sitting in his apartment and he felt the scabs slowly lifting off his healed wounds.  Although he still had strong feelings for Tom, he did not want to remember his time in jail and he certainly did not want to talk about it again, not even with the only man who could fully understand his pain.

Climbing into his Cadillac, he rested his head against the wheel and let out a long sigh.  Whatever decision he made, he knew he would need to tread carefully.  Tom was a ticking time bomb and one wrong word was likely to push him over the edge and send him spiraling towards a path of self-destruction.  It was obvious that Tom believed that he had all the answers to his problems.  However, the trouble with that theory was that Booker was not so sure that he did.  Although he had promised to help Tom in any way he could, in reality, he was terrified that spending time with his ex lover would only make his mental state worse.

**

Crawling under the covers, Tom laid his head on Booker’s pillow and breathed in the musky scent.  It was still early but he was exhausted.  Closing his eyes, he listened to the soft ticking of the alarm clock that sat on the bedside cabinet next to him.  He did not want to fall asleep, as he was terrified of the nightmares that plagued his unconscious mind.  Instead, he kept his mind alert by thinking back over his conversation with Booker.  He knew he had behaved appallingly but since coming off his medication, he was prone to outbursts that he was unable to control.  It was not how he had planned his reunion with Booker but as his grandma often said, _what’s done is done_ and he could not change it even if he wanted to.  He had managed to fix the broken coffee table but the table lamp was beyond repair.  Letting his mind wander, he imagined Dennis’ arms wrapped around him and he felt himself relax.  His stomach flip-flopped at the memory of Booker’s fingers gently caressing his hair and he sighed contentedly.  He longed for his friend to return so he could once again feel his gentle touch against his skin.  



	33. To Feel or Not to Feel: That is the Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Crawling under the covers, Tom laid his head on Booker’s pillow and breathed in the musky scent. It was still early but he was exhausted. Closing his eyes, he listened to the soft ticking of the alarm clock that sat on the bedside cabinet next to him. He did not want to fall asleep, as he was terrified of the nightmares that plagued his unconscious mind. Instead, he kept his mind alert by thinking back over his conversation with Booker. He knew he had behaved appallingly but since coming off his medication, he was prone to outbursts that he was unable to control. It was not how he had planned his reunion with Booker but as his grandma often said, what’s done is done and he could not change it even if he wanted to. He had managed to fix the broken coffee table but the table lamp was beyond repair. Letting his mind wander, he imagined Dennis’ arms wrapped around him and he felt himself relax. His stomach flip-flopped at the memory of Booker’s fingers gently caressing his hair and he sighed contentedly. He longed for his friend to return so he could once again feel his gentle touch against his skin._

**To Feel or Not to Feel: That is the Question**  

Opening his bedroom door, Booker smiled at the image of Tom lying in a tangle of sheets. He had a flash of déjà vu and he sighed at the memory. Judging by the messed up bed, Hanson had not slept well but for the moment, he looked peaceful so Dennis decided to leave him be. He turned away but stopped when he heard Tom’s sleepy voice whisper, “Don’t go.”

A shiver ran down Booker’s spine and turning back, he walked over to the bed and sat down. Reaching out, he gently brushed Tom’s hair from his eyes. “You should go back to sleep,” he murmured as his fingers continued to play with Tom’s hair. “It’s still early.”

Hanson shook his head. “Too many nightmares,” he muttered. “Sleeping exhausts me more than staying awake.”

“Scoot over,” Booker instructed softly before he had time to think what implication his words might have. 

Tom shuffled across the bed and Dennis lay down next to him. He hesitated for a moment before pulling Hanson into his arms so his head lay on his chest. “Close your eyes,” he whispered as he ran his fingers through Tom’s tousled hair. “I’m right here and no one can hurt you.”

Sighing contentedly, Tom allowed himself to relax against Booker’s soothing touch and his eyelids grew heavy before fluttering closed. He found the steady rhythm of his friend’s heartbeat comforting and gradually, his breathing slowed and he fell into an exhausted sleep.

**

Awaking from a light doze, Booker felt Tom’s body twitching in his arms. Looking down, he frowned when he saw the distressed expression on Tom’s sleeping face. Understanding the need to be gentle, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against Tom’s ear. “Come back to me baby,” he whispered softly. “You’re okay, I’m here.”

Tom’s eyes slowly opened and the tension in his face immediately relaxed when he saw Booker gazing down at him. “Hey,” he breathed, the relief evident on his face. “Did I wake you?”

Booker shook his head. “I was only dozing,” he replied and as he studied Tom’s tired face, his expression became concerned. “You really need to speak to someone about these nightmares. You can’t continue to live like this.”

Rolling onto his back, Tom let out a sigh and stared up at the ceiling. “What you really mean is that I’m crazy and I need to see a shrink,” he muttered in a wounded voice.

Propping himself up on his elbow, Booker’s hand once again found Tom’s hair and as he ran the long strands through his fingers, he smiled tenderly. “No one said you were crazy,” he replied softly. “Don’t forget, I know exactly what you’re going through and speaking to a therapist really helped me. I doubt I’d be where I am today if I hadn’t sought help.”

Turning onto his side, Tom mirrored Booker’s position as his eyes searched his friend’s face. “What if I just talked to you?” he asked quietly. “I’d feel more comfortable doing that.”

Booker’s face hardened and sitting up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he replied firmly.

A soft pout formed on Tom’s lips. “Why not?” he asked, the hurt he felt evident in his tone. “I thought you said you’d do anything to help me, so I’m asking you to help me.”

“BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO!” Dennis yelled back and raking his fingers through his hair, he began to pace the room. “Jesus Christ Hanson, don’t you get it? I don’t _want_ to relive those memories with you! I’ll do anything I can to help you but don’t fuck up my life by asking me to experience those feelings again!”

Tears filled Tom’s eyes and he climbed slowly from the bed. “Sorry,” he muttered as he pulled on his boots. “I didn’t mean to _fuck up_ your life. I thought you were my friend, I thought there was something between us, but I guess I was wrong. My mistake, I’ll leave you in peace.”

Grabbing hold of Hanson’s arm, Booker tried to reason with him. “Tom wait. I—”

Hanson pulled free of Dennis’ hold and pushing roughly past him, he strode towards the front door. “Save your breath,” he muttered. “You’ve made your position perfectly clear. Have a nice life.” Opening the door, he paused for a fraction of a second before exiting the apartment and slamming the door behind him.

Booker stood in the middle of the living room staring at the closed door. He had no idea how the situation had escalated so quickly when he was only being honest. When he first moved to Nevada, he spent six months in therapy so he could rebuild his life and put the horrors of the rapes behind him. It was during that time that he had made the decision to become a correctional officer. He knew he was no longer welcome at the Chapel and he had no idea what he would do for a career. Then one day, as he sat in his therapist’s office talking about how the guards turned a blind eye to the daily rapes and beatings, he had an epiphany. _He_ could make a difference; _he_ could be that one guard that the inmates turned to for help. It was then that he knew he had found his true calling and the next day, he enrolled in the training program. Now, six months later he was the happiest he had ever been. Every day he made a difference in at least one inmate’s life and he found the job extremely fulfilling.

Sitting down on the couch, he held his head in his hands as Tom’s words echoed in his mind, _“I thought you were my friend, I thought there was something between us…”_ and a single tear trickled down his cheek. From the first day he had met Tom, he had wanted him in his life and for the briefest of moments, he had attained his wish. However, the brutality of life in jail had ultimately torn them apart and he had mourned the loss of the man he loved. Now, after a year of loneliness, he had a second chance, an opportunity to have Tom back in his life. But Tom was no longer the man he had once been, the man Booker had fallen in love with. His haunted expression bore the evidence of his sexual abuse, his once twinkling eyes were now lifeless and his ever-present smile was a distant memory. However, what frightened Booker the most was the violent, uncontrollable rage that had consumed Tom the night before. Hanson was obviously sitting on the edge of a metaphorical precipice and one false move would send him free falling towards certain psychosis. 

Groaning loudly, Booker lifted his head and rested it against the back of the couch. All the warning signs were there; stay away and do not get involved. However, he had never been one to follow convention and he knew he could not just walk away now that Tom had reached out to him. Tom needed him and if he was honest with himself, he needed Tom just as much.

**

Standing outside of his motel room, Tom patted his pockets in search of his key. He swore loudly when he realized that he had left his jacket back at Booker’s apartment. It was barely six in the morning but the light was on at the motel’s reception, so he walked over and asked for the spare key. Letting himself into his room, he kicked off his boots and lay down on the bed. There was no reason for him to stay in Nevada now that Booker had made his intentions clear. He made the decision to book his ticket and return to Los Angeles so that he could start to think about what options he had now that he was a free man. Although he had no idea what those choices might be, he knew that if he did not at least try to find happiness, he would reach the point where he no longer cared enough to continue living.

Switching on the television, he closed his eyes and listened to the drone of the newsreader’s voice delivering the doom and gloom of the world’s affairs. Although tired, he concentrated on the man’s voice so that he would not fall asleep. Sleeping meant nightmares and the nightmares only increased his depression.

A loud rap at his door pulled him from his thoughts and sitting up, he rubbed a weary hand over his face. No one except Penhall knew where he was staying and he suddenly felt a twinge of fear. Getting to his feet, he walked slowly to the door. “Who is it?” he asked in a loud, trembling voice.

“Tommy it’s me,” Booker’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. “Please let me in.”

Relief flooded Tom’s body and turning the key, he unlocked the door and pulled it open. Booker stood outside with Tom’s jacket in his arms. “How did you find me?” Hanson asked as he stepped back from the doorway and allowed Booker to enter.

Dennis smiled. “Once a cop, always a cop,” he joked quietly. “Your room key was in your pocket and it had the name of the motel printed on it.”

“Oh,” Tom replied softly and taking his coat from Booker, he threw it onto the bed. “Well thanks for returning it.”

Stepping forward, Dennis laid a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “That’s not why I came,” he murmured softly. “I came because I wanted to apologize and because I wanted to tell you that I still love you and I want to help you.”

Tom’s dark eyes widened in disbelief. “You still love me?” he whispered.

Leaning forward, Booker pressed his lips against Tom’s forehead. “Yes,” he breathed. “I love you Tommy Hanson and I want to help you get well.”

Although they were the words Tom had longed to hear, he stepped back and studied Booker’s face. “Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “I’m a nutcase Dennis and I don’t want to be the reason you fuck up your life.”

The pain of hearing Tom utter those words penetrated Booker’s soul and he pulled his friend into a tight embrace. “I don’t know why I said that,” he replied remorsefully. “You could never fuck up my life, you _are_ my life.”

Gazing into Booker’s eyes, Tom’s lip twitched into a half smile. “You must be crazier than me,” he laughed quietly before his expression once again became serious. “You said you loved me. Does that mean you want a relationship?”

Booker’s eyes softened, and he gently brushed Tom’s hair from his face. “Do _you_ want a relationship?” he asked, being careful to keep the longing out of his eyes.

Chewing nervously on his lower lip, Tom hesitated for a moment before nodding his head. “I do,” he confessed quietly before lowering his eyes and blushing with humiliation. “But Dennis, I don’t know how much I can give you. Since I came out of prison, I can’t… well… I can’t get aroused.”

Pulling Tom close, Booker murmured into his hair. “It doesn’t matter Tommy. We’ll take one day at a time, okay?”

Tears filled Tom’s eyes and clung to his long lashes. “Okay,” he whispered and for the first time in over a year he felt that maybe, everything would be all right.


	34. Learning to Live Again, Learning to Love Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **My apologies for the delay in posting this chapter but my life has become a little hectic lately. I hope to have another chapter posted sometime next week but if I don't, rest assured, I _NEVER_ abandon a story. I hope this chapter was worth the wait :)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: A loud rap at his door pulled him from his thoughts and sitting up, he rubbed a weary hand over his face. No one except Penhall knew where he was staying and he suddenly felt a twinge of fear. Getting to his feet, he walked slowly to the door. “Who is it?” he asked in a loud, trembling voice._
> 
> _“Tommy it’s me,” Booker’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. “Please let me in.”_
> 
> _Relief flooded Tom’s body and turning the key, he unlocked the door and pulled it open. Booker stood outside with Tom’s jacket in his arms. “How did you find me?” Hanson asked as he stepped back from the doorway and allowed Booker to enter._
> 
> _Dennis smiled. “Once a cop, always a cop,” he joked quietly. “Your room key was in your pocket and it had the name of the motel printed on it.”_
> 
> _“Oh,” Tom replied softly and taking his coat from Booker, he threw it onto the bed. “Well thanks for returning it.”_
> 
> _Stepping forward, Dennis laid a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “That’s not why I came,” he murmured softly. “I came because I wanted to apologize and because I wanted to tell you that I still love you and I want to help you.”_
> 
> _Tom’s dark eyes widened in disbelief. “You still love me?” he whispered._
> 
> _Leaning forward, Booker pressed his lips against Tom’s forehead. “Yes,” he breathed. “I love you Tommy Hanson and I want to help you get well.”_
> 
> _Although they were the words Tom had longed to hear, he stepped back and studied Booker’s face. “Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “I’m a nutcase Dennis and I don’t want to be the reason you fuck up your life.”_
> 
> _The pain of hearing Tom utter those words penetrated Booker’s soul and he pulled his friend into a tight embrace. “I don’t know why I said that,” he replied remorsefully. “You could never fuck up my life, you are my life.”_
> 
> _Gazing into Booker’s eyes, Tom’s lip twitched into a half smile. “You must be crazier than me,” he laughed quietly before his expression once again became serious. “You said you loved me. Does that mean you want a relationship?”_
> 
> _Booker’s eyes softened, and he gently brushed Tom’s hair from his face. “Do you want a relationship?” he asked, being careful to keep the longing out of his eyes._
> 
> _Chewing nervously on his lower lip, Tom hesitated for a moment before nodding his head. “I do,” he confessed quietly before lowering his eyes and blushing with humiliation. “But Dennis, I don’t know how much I can give you. Since I came out of prison, I can’t… well… I can’t get aroused.”_
> 
> _Pulling Tom close, Booker murmured into his hair. “It doesn’t matter Tommy. We’ll take one day at a time, okay?”_
> 
> _Tears filled Tom’s eyes and clung to his long lashes. “Okay,” he whispered and for the first time in over a year he felt that maybe, everything would be all right._

**Learning to Live Again, Learning to Love Again**  

Dennis eventually left the motel so that he could get some sleep, but not before promising an anxious Tom that he would return during the afternoon and take him back to his apartment. Tom spent the morning watching television in an effort to occupy his mind but he could not stop sneaking glances at his watch every twenty minutes or so as he willed the time to pass. When three o’clock approached, he began to pace nervously around the small motel room as he listened for the sound of Booker’s Cadillac. Although somewhat apprehensive, he was eager to leave the motel and move in with Dennis. It was his new beginning and he wanted to spend quality time with Booker so that they could rekindle the spark that he knew lay hidden just below the surface.

Hearing the sound of tires on gravel, he pulled back the curtain and sighed with relief when he saw Booker’s car pulling up outside his room. Although he would not admit it to himself, he had been worried that once Dennis had time to think, he might change his mind. Tom knew that he was a liability and he felt indebted to Booker for taking a chance with him. His nervousness and panic attacks combined with his fits of anger and engulfing waves of despair were often more than he could cope with and he could not dispel the nagging doubt in his mind that Dennis had no idea of what he was actually taking on. However, he attempted to push the negative thoughts aside. He was about to enter a new chapter in his life and he did not want to start by being pessimistic about the future.

Picking up his backpack, he walked out of the motel and gave Dennis a smile. “Hey,” he greeted shyly. Although he had given himself the _pep talk_ , now that he was actually facing the reality of the situation, he felt nervous and unsure.

Stepping forward, Dennis kissed Tom lightly on the lips. “Hey,” he echoed with a smile. Searching Tom’s face, his smile quickly turned into a frown. “Are you okay? You look a little stressed. Did something happen?”

Tom rubbed his hand nervously over his mouth. “No, nothing happened,” he mumbled. “I guess I’m a little anxious because I know I’m still so fucked up and I don’t want you—”

“Whoa,” Booker interrupted quietly and gathering Tom into his arms, he pulled him against his chest. “No more talk like that, okay? It’s still early days and once you get some help, you’ll start to feel better.”

Leaning his head against Dennis’ broad chest, Tom took comfort from the contact. He hoped that Booker was right and that once he had time to adjust to life on the outside, he would overcome his fears and slowly become the man he had once been.

Releasing his hold, Booker kissed Tom on the forehead. “Ready?” he asked in a soft voice. “We don’t have much time to get you settled in before I have to go to work.”

Nodding his head, Tom followed Booker to the car. Climbing into the passenger seat, he placed his backpack on the floor and buckled his seatbelt. When Dennis turned his head and gave him a reassuring smile, he felt his heart flutter and he knew he had made the right decision. Everything would be all right.

**

Arriving at the apartment, the two men spent some time together talking before eating a meal of pasta that Dennis had prepared. After showing Tom around the apartment, Booker disappeared into the bedroom before emerging several minutes later dressed in his prison uniform. When he walked into the living room, he immediately saw a flicker of fear in Tom’s eyes. Sitting down on the couch next to his friend, he laid a hand on his knee. “Does the uniform bother you?” he asked quietly.

Embarrassment flushed Tom’s face and he lowered his eyes. “A little,” he confessed. “I still can’t get my head around it. How can you work in a place like that after everything that happened to us?”

“I told you,” Booker replied softly. “If I can be the one guard who doesn’t turn a blind eye to the horror, then I’m making a difference in an inmate’s life. Think how different it would have been for us if somebody had actually cared enough to acknowledge what we were going through.”

“I guess,” Tom replied but deep down, seeing Booker dressed in the uniform that he associated with his nightmares was extremely confusing. 

Standing up, Booker cast Tom a worried look. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” he asked. “I won’t be home until morning.”

Tom took a deep breath and forced what he hoped was a convincing smile. “I’ll be fine,” he lied. “Don’t worry about me, I’m not as fragile as I look.”

Booker did not look won over by Tom’s statement but he did not push the matter further. It was too late for him to call in sick so he had no choice but to leave him alone. Bending down, he kissed the top of Tom’s head. “See you soon, okay?” he murmured.

Tom nodded his head and watched as Dennis left the apartment. This was his first test, he was alone in unfamiliar surroundings and if he could survive the night without breaking down, it would be one small step towards his recovery.

However, five hours later, he was sitting on the edge of Booker’s bed, hyperventilating and wishing that he were anywhere except alone in a strange apartment. As his fingers clutched frantically at the bed linen, he attempted to calm his breathing. He remembered Lily’s soothing voice and gentle touch and closing his eyes, he imagined that she was sitting next to him, offering him comfort. That a perfect stranger had shown him such kindness was almost inconceivable to him, especially after everything he had been through in prison and the memory brought tears to his eyes. During the last twelve months, he had come to believe that he was unworthy of love or compassion. He honestly thought that he deserved the daily rapes and beatings because he was insignificant, a mere pawn in the game of life. However, Lily’s humanity had shown him that he was _not_ invisible, that people _did_ care and that he _was_ worthy of their attention. It had been a life changing moment for him and he knew that he and Lily would be friends forever.

Hearing the sound of the apartment door opening, Tom’s panic began to increase. The last thing he wanted was for Booker to see that he had not been able to survive even one night on his own without falling apart. Lying back down on the bed, he pulled the covers over his shaking body and tried to feign sleep. He heard the bedroom door open and moments later the mattress depressed as Booker sat down next to him. Several seconds passed before a gentle hand stroked his hair. “It’s okay Tommy,” Dennis murmured. “I’m home now.”

A feeling of shame washed over Tom and he choked back a sob. He had not been able to fool Booker for one moment and he felt like a small child in need of comfort. Tears of embarrassment clung to his long lashes as he struggled to catch his breath. It took several minutes but Booker’s calming touch eventually helped to slow his breathing. When he felt composed enough, he rolled over and gave his friend a watery smile. “Sorry,” he mumbled apologetically. “You caught me at a bad moment.”

Dennis smiled understandingly and getting to his feet, he began to undress. When he was wearing only his boxers, he pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. “Do you want me to try and help you take your mind off your fears?” he asked softly as he ran his fingers through Tom’s sweaty hair.

Tom bit down on his lower lip. More than anything, he wanted contact with Dennis but he was terrified of what he _would not_ feel. He did not think he could cope with the added humiliation of not being able to become aroused under Dennis’ touch and he worried that it would give his friend another reason to have doubts about their relationship before it had even begun.

Turning away, he shook his head. “There’s no point,” he muttered dejectedly. “It’s a waste of time.”

Placing a hand on Tom’s shoulder, Booker gently rolled him onto his back. “Small steps, remember?” he murmured against his ear. “Let’s just take it slow.”

Throwing back the covers, Booker positioned himself so he was kneeling between Tom’s legs. Leaning forward, he placed his palms flat against the mattress and ducking his head, he nibbled lovingly at Tom’s earlobe. “I just want you to relax,” he whispered as he nuzzled against Hanson’s throat. Opening his mouth, he sucked and nipped at the taught skin until the blood pooled to the surface. Lifting his head, his eyes grew black when he saw his mark on Tom’s pale skin. “Now you’re mine,” he moaned softly.

Tom blushed when he saw the arousal in Dennis’ eyes and he quickly averted his gaze. Unperturbed, Dennis gently grasped Tom’s lower jaw and turned his head so that their eyes locked. “I want to kiss you,” he breathed. “Can I kiss you?”

Swallowing deeply, Tom nodded. Lowering his head, Dennis pressed his lips lovingly against Tom’s full pout. The kiss was tender, almost chaste and he took his time enjoying the thrilling sensation of their tongues coming together in a slow evocative dance. As Tom’s fingers played affectionately with the hair at the nape of his neck it took all of his self-control not to return the touch. He was wary of coming on too strong and frightening his lover. This was Tom’s first sexual encounter since the rapes and any wrong move could cause horrific mental flashbacks.

Breaking the kiss, Booker smiled and gently pushed Tom’s hair from his eyes. “Is it okay if I take off your t-shirt?” he asked in a soft voice. Tom’s eyes filled with panic and he began to chew frantically on his lower lip. Seeing Hanson’s distress, Dennis placed the palm of his hand against his lover’s cheek. “Hey,” he said quietly. “What’s wrong?”

Tom’s mouth twitched nervously at the corner. “Um,” he began uncertainly before his voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ve got scars… from where he cut me.”

Dennis black eyes flashed with anger but he quickly gained control of his emotions. “Who cut you?” he asked through gritted teeth.

Turning his head, Tom blinked back the tears that threatened to spill from his tortured eyes. “Talbot,” he mumbled against the pillow. “He liked to suck my blood before he fucked me.” 

Dennis knew that the next few seconds were crucial and how he handled the revelation would ultimately decide their future. Depending on his reaction, it would either make or break his relationship with Tom. Lowering his gaze, he took several deep, calming breaths. When he was certain that his voice was steady, he lifted his head and stared lovingly into Tom’s eyes. “I don’t care about the scars,” he whispered. “But I do want to see what he did to you.”

Tom hesitated for a moment before nodding his assent. Taking hold of the bottom of Tom’s t-shirt, Booker carefully lifted it over his lover’s head before tossing it to the floor. Looking down at the thin white scars that traversed Tom’s slender torso, he fought back tears. “Oh baby,” he breathed but he did not make any other comment. Instead, he dropped his head and began to cover Tom’s chest and stomach with light, butterfly kisses. He sighed with relief when he felt Tom’s fingers once again entwine in his hair and he gradually grew bolder. Finding Hanson’s nipple, he sucked at the raised nub for several moments before nipping and sucking his way down to his lover’s navel and as he swirled his tongue around the indentation, he felt Tom’s body quivering beneath him. 

Encouraged by the reaction, he again lifted his head and gazed into Tom’s hooded eyes. “Can I keep going?” he asked in a husky voice and this time there was no hesitation as Tom immediately nodded his head. Pressing his lips against Tom’s lower stomach, Dennis gently kissed the scarred skin as he gradually moved downwards. His mouth found Tom’s cock and he lightly kissed up and down the shaft through the material of his boxers. He grinned when he felt a slight movement against his lips and he knew that Tom was beginning to become aroused. Not wanting to overwhelm him, he continued his exploration and he began to lick and suck at the inside of Tom’s thigh but within moments, his lover’s eager hands were guiding him back to his growing erection. As he peppered kisses up and down the material that covered Tom’s hardening cock, he could hear soft moaning and raising his head, he smiled lovingly. “Do you want me to suck you baby?” he murmured.

“ _Yesss_ ,” Tom breathed and lifting his hips he watched as Booker slowly removed his boxers. His heart hammered in his chest and he let out a low moan of pleasure as Dennis pressed his lips against his cockhead. “Again,” he groaned softly and he cried out when Booker wrapped his lips around him and sucked gently. “Oh God!” he gasped as Dennis’ hot mouth traveled up and down his shaft. “Oh Jesus!”

Booker winced slightly when he felt Tom’s fingers pull at his hair but he did not stop. Hanson was now fully erect and he could taste his precum as he sucked at his burgeoning cock. When Tom’s hips lifted off the bed, he opened his throat and allowed him full access. Wrapping his lips tightly around Tom’s shaft, he began to hum and the soft vibration against his lover’s sensitive cockhead had the desired effect. With a loud cry of delight, Tom ejaculated forcefully into his throat. Swallowing deeply, he savored the taste as he felt Tom’s body shuddering beneath him. When Tom relaxed back against the mattress, he continued to lap at his softening cock for several more minutes before lifting his head and licking his lips mischievously.

Tom’s face split into a wide grin and using his hands, he gently guided Booker towards his mouth and kissed him lovingly. “Thank you,” he whispered in a quivering voice.

Lying down on the mattress, Booker pulled Tom into his arms and sucked tenderly at his lower lip. “I told you baby,” he murmured softly. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

Closing his eyes, Tom sighed happily. As he listened to the steady beat of his lover’s heart, he felt a slight lifting of the emotional weight from his shoulders. He had conquered two of his fears; he had stayed alone in Booker’s apartment and he had managed to attain an orgasm. For the first time since his release from prison, he truly felt relaxed and he hoped that with each passing day, his life would continue to improve.

Gazing down at Tom’s ruffled hair, Booker ignored his aching erection. He had achieved his goal, to give Tom his release and his own sexual needs could wait. However, he yearned for the day when he and Tom would come together as one.


	35. Tripping Towards Regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Pressing his lips against Tom’s lower stomach, Dennis gently kissed the scarred skin as he gradually moved downwards. His mouth found Tom’s cock and he lightly kissed up and down the shaft through the material of his boxers. He grinned when he felt a slight movement against his lips and he knew that Tom was beginning to become aroused. Not wanting to overwhelm him, he continued his exploration and he began to lick and suck at the inside of Tom’s thigh but within moments, his lover’s eager hands were guiding him back to his growing erection. As he peppered kisses up and down the material that covered Tom’s hardening cock, he could hear soft moaning and raising his head, he smiled lovingly. “Do you want me to suck you baby?” he murmured._
> 
> _“Yesss,” Tom breathed and lifting his hips he watched as Booker slowly removed his boxers. His heart hammered in his chest and he let out a low moan of pleasure as Dennis pressed his lips against his cockhead. “Again,” he groaned softly and he cried out when Booker wrapped his lips around him and sucked gently. “Oh God!” he gasped as Dennis’ hot mouth traveled up and down his shaft. “Oh Jesus!”_
> 
> _Booker winced slightly when he felt Tom’s fingers pull at his hair but he did not stop. Hanson was now fully erect and he could taste his precum as he sucked at his burgeoning cock. When Tom’s hips lifted off the bed, he opened his throat and allowed him full access. Wrapping his lips tightly around Tom’s shaft, he began to hum and the soft vibration against his lover’s sensitive cockhead had the desired effect. With a loud cry of delight, Tom ejaculated forcefully into his throat. Swallowing deeply, he savored the taste as he felt Tom’s body shuddering beneath him. When Tom relaxed back against the mattress, he continued to lap at his softening cock for several more minutes before lifting his head and licking his lips mischievously._
> 
> _Tom’s face split into a wide grin and using his hands, he gently guided Booker towards his mouth and kissed him lovingly. “Thank you,” he whispered in a quivering voice._
> 
> _Lying down on the mattress, Booker pulled Tom into his arms and sucked tenderly at his lower lip. “I told you baby,” he murmured softly. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”_
> 
> _Closing his eyes, Tom sighed happily. As he listened to the steady beat of his lover’s heart, he felt a slight lifting of the emotional weight from his shoulders. He had conquered two of his fears; he had stayed alone in Booker’s apartment and he had managed to attain an orgasm. For the first time since his release from prison, he truly felt relaxed and he hoped that with each passing day, his life would continue to improve._
> 
> _Gazing down at Tom’s ruffled hair, Booker ignored his aching erection. He had achieved his goal, to give Tom his release and his own sexual needs could wait. However, he yearned for the day when he and Tom would come together as one._

**Tripping Towards Regret**

Waking from a deep, refreshing sleep, Booker yawned loudly and stretched out his limbs. A slow smile played over his lips when he remembered the intoxicating taste of Tom’s semen against his tongue and the memory caused a stirring in his groin. Rolling onto his side, he started to murmur his lover’s name, but he stopped when he saw that he was alone. A small frown creased his brow and swinging his legs over the side of the mattress he stood up and walked out of the bedroom. 

When he entered the living area, he paused in puzzlement when he saw the room was empty. He had fully expected to see Tom sitting on the couch watching television and a shiver of fear ran down his spine. Turning towards the bathroom, a slight movement caught his eye and he quickly spun back around. A physical pain stabbed at his heart when he saw Tom crouching in the corner of the room, his tear stained face drained of color and his body trembling violently. Moving slowly forward, he squatted down and gazed into Tom’s frightened eyes. “Jesus Tommy,” he murmured. “I really think we need to get you some help.”

Shaking his head forcefully from side to side, Tom struggled to speak. “I’m f-fine,” he sobbed. “It’s j-just a p-panic attack.”

Sitting down on the floor, Dennis attempted to pull his lover into his arms. “Come here baby,” he replied in a soft voice. “Let me help you.”

Tom immediately shrank away from Booker’s touch. “D-Don’t!” he snapped irritably. “I’m n-not your f-fucking sex toy. L-Leave me alone.”

Dennis’ eyes widened in shock. “What did you say?” he asked, certain that he had misunderstood Tom’s words.

“You h-heard me,” Tom replied sullenly, his teary eyes flashing angrily. “Now f-fuck off and l-leave me _alone!_ ”

Scrambling to his feet, Booker gave Tom a furious look. “In case you’ve forgotten Hanson, this is _my_ fucking home,” he replied bitterly. “I didn’t ask for this shit, _you_ came looking for _me!_ How _dare_ you accuse me of taking advantage when all I’ve done is try and help you. Well _fuck you!_ You can pack your bag and piss off back to California for all I care. Have a nice fucking life!” With one final angry glare at his antagonist, he turned away and stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door forcefully behind him. He was shocked that Tom believed that he could ever abuse him emotionally, let alone use him for his own sexual gratification. Standing in the middle of the room, his body shook with uncontrollable fury at the spitefulness of the hurtful words. He had taken Hanson into his home and offered him his love and support but now it appeared that his friend had completely misconstrued his intentions. In less than twenty-four hours their relationship was in danger of crumbling into tiny, irreparable pieces and he was beginning to wish that he had not let his heart rule his head. He should have trusted his initial instincts and not become involved with Hanson after so much time a part. They both carried too much emotional baggage and it would have been better for both of them if they had remained estranged.

Sitting down on the bed, he buried his head in his hands as hot, angry tears blurred his vision. His mind was conflicted with emotions; he loved Tom but he was not prepared to jeopardize his own happiness. It had taken him too long to find his niche in the world after his incarceration and heroin dependency and he would not allow Tom to ruin it all, no matter how much he needed his help. He was foolish to have thought that love alone could _cure_ Hanson and it was obvious to him now that his friend needed extensive psychological counseling with a professional if he had any hope of beating his demons and living a happy and healthy life. 

A soft knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts and lifting his head, he sighed heavily. “What?” he called out crossly.

Tom’s voice sounded muffled from behind the solid wood door but there was no mistaking the sadness in his tone. “Can I come in?”

Clenching his fists, Booker attempted to keep his temper under control. “That’s not a good idea Hanson,” he replied through gritted teeth. “I need some time alone.”

Ignoring Dennis’ plea, Tom opened the door and walked in with his head bowed. “I’m sor—”

Jumping to his feet, Booker shoved Tom in the chest. “Jesus Christ Hanson, what did I just say?” he yelled. “I told you I need time alone!”

Tom’s eyes filled with tears and he clutched frantically at Booker’s arm. “I’m sorry,” he implored in a distraught voice. “I didn’t mean what I said and I don’t even know why I said it! Please Dennis, don’t push me away! I _need_ you… I _love_ you!”

Hearing Tom’s declaration of love tore at Dennis’ heart and he hesitated for a moment before gently pulling his arm free. “I know you do,” he replied sadly. “But I don’t think it’s enough.”

Choking back a sob, Tom’s dark brown eyes gazed at Dennis in dismay. “I thought you loved me too,” he whispered.

Although Dennis longed to take Tom into his arms and tell him he was sorry and that of course he could stay, he remained resolute. “I _do_ love you,” he replied softly. “And that’s why I have to let you go.”

“No!” Tom sobbed as tears coursed down his cheeks. “I said I was sorry, why can’t you forgive me?”

The desperation in Tom’s voice brought tears to Dennis’ eyes but he had made his mind up and there was no turning back. “Because if I do we’ll end up hating each other,” he muttered miserably. “And I couldn’t bear that. You need help Tommy, professional help and then maybe, one day, we’ll find each other again.”

Tom gazed at Dennis incredulously. “You’re serious,” he murmured quietly. “I can’t believe it. After only one day you’re turning your back on me.”

Walking away, Booker bent down and picked up Tom’s backpack. “Pack your things,” he mumbled as he blinked back his tears. “I’ll drive you back to Los Angeles.”

“What about work?” Tom replied sullenly. “I don’t want to _inconvenience_ you.”

A bitter smile played over Booker’s lips. “I managed to get three days off work,” he answered in a voice full of sorrow. “I was going to drive you back to Penhall’s so you could pick up the rest of your stuff and move in here permanently. Now I guess I’ll be coming back here alone.”

Tom’s expression hardened. ‘That’s your choice,” he shot back angrily. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

Unable to meet Tom’s angry gaze, Dennis lowered his head and threw him his backpack. “Yes it does,” he whispered in a barely audible voice and he walked from the room.

**

Tom spent the entire five hours they had been on the road staring morosely out of the window and neither man had spoken a word. As the hours ticked by, depression and fatigue began to take their toll on Booker and he felt the desperate need for coffee and a cigarette. Pulling into a diner, he parked the car and turned off the ignition. Sighing heavily, he turned to face Tom. “I need a break,” he said in a quiet voice. “I’m going to get a cup of coffee and something to eat. Are you coming in?”

Hanson’s eyes remained fixed on the car park outside. “No,” he replied tersely. “I don’t want to be a nuisance.”

“Jesus,” Booker muttered under his breath. “Now you’re behaving like an asshole.”

Snapping his head around, Tom glared at Dennis. “Yeah?” he shot back in a raised voice. “Well whose fucking fault is that?”

Booker felt his temper rising. “You’re kidding, right?” he snapped. “You’re blaming _me_ for this? I’m not the one who accused you of being a sexual predator!”

Tom’s cheeks flushed red. “I told you I didn’t mean that,” he mumbled sulkily. “Sometimes I don’t know what I’m saying.”

Opening the car door, Booker climbed out of the Cadillac. Slamming the door closed, he peered in through the open window. “Well isn’t that convenient,” he stated moodily. “It means you don’t have to be responsible for anything you say. Lucky you.”

Turning away, Dennis started to walk towards the diner but he stopped when he heard his friend’s soft voice. “Lucky?” Tom muttered miserably. “I never asked for this. They took everything from me, including you.”

Remorse filled Booker’s heart and he bit down on his lower lip as he began to have doubts about his decision to abandon Tom. Spinning slowly around, he walked back over to the car. “Let’s get some coffee,” he replied quietly. “And then maybe we should find a place to stay and talk things over.”

“Does that mean you forgive me?” Tom asked expectantly.

The look of hope in Tom’s eyes caused Dennis’ heart to flutter and he managed a small smile. “Yes Tommy,” he answered softly. “But I’m not promising that I’ll change my mind about taking you back to Doug’s. I still think it’s best if we parted ways but I think maybe we should talk about it first.”

Tom sighed heavily and nodded his head. “Okay,” he agreed. “But I want twenty-four hours to have my chance to change your mind.”

A shiver of anticipation ran down Dennis’ spine but he quickly pushed the thought away. As much as he wanted it, he would not allow Tom to seduce him. He needed to keep a clear head and think things through rationally because whatever decision he made would affect his life forever.

**

Tom sat stiffly on the bed in his motel room waiting for Booker to arrive. He had tried to persuade his friend that they should share a room instead of getting separate accommodation, but to Tom’s disappointment, Booker had remained adamant in his decision. It was not only because he was afraid to be on his own in a strange motel, it was because he wanted to spend time with Dennis and let him see how remorseful he was. He still had no idea why he had said what he had; all he knew was that when he was suffering a panic attack his mind became very confused. During his time in prison, he had felt like Talbot’s own personal sex toy and he wondered if that was why he had accused Dennis of treating him like one. Whereas he had no choice but to submit to his cellmate’s sexual advances, he _wanted_ to share intimate experiences with Booker, even though he did not know exactly how far he was prepared to take those encounters. However, what he did know was that he loved Dennis and he would fight to keep him in his life.

As the minutes slowly turned into hours, Tom began to panic. For a brief moment he wondered if Booker had tricked him and fear gripped his heart. Jumping to his feet, he ran over to the window and stared frantically out at the car park. His heart rate slowed and he let out a sigh of relief when he saw Dennis’ Cadillac parked in front of the room next door. Booker had said that he needed a few hours sleep before they sat down together and talked about their future and Tom now felt foolish for believing otherwise. Dennis was a good man and Tom knew that whatever happened, he could always trust him.

Turning away from the window, he picked up the remote and flicked on the television. He needed to be patient and let Dennis have a few peaceful hours on his own. The last thing he wanted to do was push him away to the point of no return.

**

Lying on his back, Dennis stared up at the ceiling. He had asked Tom to give him time to catch up on some rest but now that he was in his room, he did not feel like sleeping. As thoughts of Tom filled his mind, his fingers lightly stroked at the growing mound pushing against his denims. A soft moan escaped his lips and closing his eyes, he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down the zipper. Reaching into his boxers, he released his erection and ran his thumb over his cockhead. A shiver of excitement ran through his body and he let out a gasp of pleasure. Images of Tom played through his mind like scenes from a movie and with a groan, he began to jerk off. As his hand pumped over his cock, his breathing began to labor and he knew it would not take long to reach his climax.

Quickening his pace, he started to pant in a voice full of longing, _“Oh Tommy… oh Tommy… oh Tommy…”_ and when his orgasm hit hard and fast and warm semen coated his fingers, he knew that he was deluding himself. He was hopelessly in love with Tom Hanson and he would find it extremely difficult to remove him from his life completely.


	36. Vis-à-vis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Lying on his back, Dennis stared up at the ceiling. He had asked Tom to give him time to catch up on some rest but now that he was in his room, he did not feel like sleeping. As thoughts of Tom filled his mind, his fingers lightly stroked at the growing mound pushing against his denims. A soft moan escaped his lips and closing his eyes, he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down the zipper. Reaching into his boxers, he released his erection and ran his thumb over his cockhead. A shiver of excitement ran through his body and he let out a gasp of pleasure. Images of Tom played through his mind like scenes from a movie and with a groan, he began to jerk off. As his hand pumped over his cock, his breathing began to labor and he knew it would not take long to reach his climax._
> 
> _Quickening his pace, he started to pant in a voice full of longing, “Oh Tommy… oh Tommy… oh Tommy…” and when his orgasm hit hard and fast and warm semen coated his fingers, he knew that he was deluding himself. He was hopelessly in love with Tom Hanson and he would find it extremely difficult to remove him from his life completely._

**Vis-à-vis**

A soft tap at Tom’s motel door signaled Dennis’ arrival. Wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, Tom silently counted to ten before climbing off the bed and answering the door. He gave Booker a shy smile and stood back from the doorway. “Come in,” he invited softly.

Dennis gave Tom a tense smile. “I think it would be better if we went out,” he replied quietly. “How about drinks at the bar up the road?”

Tom felt a tightness in his chest and his hands began to tremble. “Go out?” he asked in a shaky voice. 

“Sure,” Dennis responded in puzzlement. “Why not?”

As panic consumed his mind, Tom began to chew furiously on his lower lip. This was not what he had expected. He had thought that he and Dennis would spend the night in his motel room, safe from the prying eyes of others and now, the very idea of sitting in a crowded bar unnerved him. As much as he hated being alone, he was more terrified of being around strangers. Feeling Dennis’ dark eyes boring into him, he knew he had to say something and swallowing deeply, he lowered his eyes to the floor. “I can’t,” he replied simply.

A deep frown creased Dennis’ brow. “Can’t or won’t,” he asked without taking his eyes off Tom’s frightened face. “There’s a difference.”

Blood pounded in Tom’s ears as he fought to gain control of his emotions. Closing his eyes, he thought of Lily and he imagined her tranquil voice reassuring him, telling him that everything would be okay. As his heart rate steadied, he opened his eyes and lifted his gaze. “Can’t,” he replied in a sad voice. “I’m sorry Dennis, I wish I could but—”

“But why?” Dennis pushed, not willing to give into Tom too easily. “Tell me what you’re afraid of.”

Tears of humiliation welled in Tom’s eyes. “Men,” he whispered. “I’m afraid of men.”

Booker’s expression softened and his eyes filled with pity. “Oh Tom,” he murmured softly and stepping forward, he placed his arm around Hanson’s shoulders. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Dropping his gaze, Tom stared glumly at the faded red carpet. “You won’t always be around,” he stated in a flat voice. “Tonight might be our last night together.”

Although his heart was aching, Booker was not about to be emotionally blackmailed. Keeping his voice light, he gave Tom’s shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe so,” he replied honestly. “But tonight I _am_ here, so there’s nothing to be afraid of is there?”

Tom knew that he was defeated and that if he refused to go out, he risked losing Dennis forever. Taking a deep breath, he managed a small smile. “I guess not,” he muttered softly. He hesitated for a moment before letting out a loud sigh of resignation. “Okay, you win.”

Dennis’ lips parted into a broad smile and reaching out, he affectionately brushed Tom’s hair from his eyes. “I’m really proud of you,” he murmured. “One day at a time, that’s all you have to concentrate on.”

“One day at a time,” Tom echoed quietly but as they left the sanctuary of his motel room, he wondered if tomorrow would be his last day with Dennis.

**

Staring around the crowded bar, Tom concentrated on keeping his breathing under control. His leg jigged nervously as he waited for Booker to return with their drinks. The noise of the patrons in addition to the smell of stale beer and cigarettes overloaded his senses and he began to feel sick. Sweat trickled down his back and his vision started to blur. Grasping the edge of the table with both hands, he closed his eyes and tried not to hyperventilate. As his panic increased, he knew he was on the verge of crying and he felt ashamed and emasculated. Desperate to get away from what he perceived to be a room full of inquisitive eyes, he staggered to his feet and pushed blindly past a hard body standing in his way. When a firm grip grasped his arm, his agitation increased tenfold and turning around, he lashed out with his fist, striking his assailant in the face.

“Tom!” Booker yelled from across the room and forgetting about their drinks, he ran over to their table and pushed away the middle-aged man that was holding onto Tom’s arm. “Leave him alone you son-of-a-bitch!” he yelled angrily.

The man backed away and held one hand up in surrender as his other probed his aching jaw. “Hey pal,” he replied in an uneasy voice. “I was just checking to see if your friend was okay and he went all Bruce Lee on me.”

Placing his arm around Tom’s shoulders, Dennis gave the man a small smile. “Sorry,” he apologized. “He’s agoraphobic.”

The man gave Tom an inquisitive look before turning his gaze back to Booker. “Maybe your friend shouldn’t be out in public places,” he replied unsympathetically.

Guiding Tom back to their table, Dennis threw the man a filthy look. “Maybe ignorant assholes like _you_ shouldn’t be out in public places,” he snapped back.

The man took a step forward but seeing the furious look on Dennis’ face, he changed his mind. “Fucking freak,” he muttered under his breath before turning on his heel and walking away.

Focusing his attention on Tom, Booker pulled his friend into his arms and hugged him close. “Are you okay?” he whispered against Tom’s ear. “Do you want to leave?”

Although he longed to stay in the comforting embrace of Dennis’ arms, Tom gently pulled away and taking a deep breath, he shook his head. “No, I’m fine. Go and get our drinks.”

A look of immense pride shone from Booker’s dark eyes and he gave Tom a broad smile. “That was a _huge_ step,” he praised softly. “I’m really impressed.”

A pink tinge stained Tom’s cheeks and he cast his eyes down at the table. “Impressed because I had a melt down?” he mumbled in embarrassment. “Yeah, that’s _really_ something to be proud of.”

Booker gently tilted Tom’s chin up so that their eyes locked. “No,” he murmured quietly. “Because you didn’t give into it. You faced your fear and you won. That makes you very brave in my eyes.”

Tom’s lip twitched into a half smile. “Now you’re just flirting with me,” he teased, pleased that the mood had lightened.

Grinning like a mischievous schoolboy, Booker gave Tom a wink. “Maybe,” he replied softly but as Tom’s eyes widened in surprise, he quickly turned away and walked back to the bar. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground but it felt good to be with Tom, even if the night had not started out as well as he would have hoped. However, as he carried their drinks back to their table, he anticipated that things could only get better.

**

As happy hour ended, the bar crowd started to thin and Tom and Dennis found themselves in a quiet nook with only a few patrons for company. Since sitting down, they had barely spoken a word and Dennis began to wonder if the harbinger of doom had already sealed their fate. He did not know if their silence indicated that there was nothing left to say or that it meant that there was _too_ much left to say.

However, just as he was about suggest that they call it a night, Tom raised his eyes from the table. “How did you do it?” he asked softly.

Booker’s brow knitted in puzzlement. “Do what?” he asked.

Pushing away his half-empty glass of beer, Tom sighed heavily. “Turn your life around,” he replied quietly. “The last time I saw you in jail you were…” His voice trailed off and lowering his eyes, he left the painful words unspoken. The last time he had seen Booker in jail he was high on heroin and happily playing at being Carlos Martínez’s bitch.

Dennis’ dark eyes filled with anguish at the memory. Picking up a cardboard beer coaster, he began to pick nervously at its soggy edges. “My parents, they um, sent me to a private facility,” he responded in a flat voice. “I received therapy to help me through my drug withdrawal and I saw a psychologist who helped me come to terms with what happened to me.”

Lifting his gaze, Tom gave Dennis a penetrating stare. “And have you come to terms with it?” he asked bluntly.

Booker’s agitation became clear as he began to rip up the coaster. “I thought I had,” he replied tersely. “But then you came back.”

The stinging tone in Booker’s voice caused a physical pain in Tom’s heart. Standing up, he gave his friend a sad smile. “You were right,” he muttered miserably. “This is never going to work. We keep going round and round but we always end up back in the same place. I don’t want to hurt you anymore Dennis so I’m going to make this easy on you. All I ask is that you drive me to Doug’s and then you won’t ever have to hear from me again.”

Tossing the destroyed coaster across the table, Booker gazed deep into Tom’s eyes. “Is that really what you want?” he asked.

Shaking his head, Tom’s eyes filled with tears. “No, it’s not what I want Dennis,” he replied softly. “But it’s what _you_ want so I’m not going to argue.”

Raking his fingers through his hair, Dennis slouched back in his seat and sighed heavily. “I don’t know _what_ I want,” he stated truthfully. “Jesus Tommy, I’ve never in my life felt more confused than how I feel when I’m with you.”

Sitting back down, Tom gave Booker an uneasy smile. “I know what you mean,” he stated in a quiet voice. “But before you make up your mind, I want to tell you what happened to me in prison.” 

Booker looked uncertain. “Tom,” he replied softly. “Are you sure you want to drag up all those memories?”

A sad smile played over Tom’s lips. “I have to,” he murmured in a barely audible voice. “I need to start healing.”

Understanding filled Dennis’ eyes. “Okay,” he muttered. “But not here. Let’s go back to your room.”

Equal parts of relief and fear coursed through Tom’s body. He was about to divulge his nightmare to the man he had fallen in love with and when he was through, he would know for sure if their relationship could be salvaged.

**

When Tom finally finished speaking, Dennis rubbed a trembling hand over his face. Hearing Tom talk about the horrors he had endured had reawakened long buried memories of his own sexual abuses. Tears had filled his eyes when his friend described the fear he had felt when Matheson told him he was to be Martínez’s cellmate. The tears spilled over when Tom spoke about the gang rape he had endured on his second night in _gen pop_. However, what had haunted him the most was how Talbot had claimed Tom as his own and had systematically beaten him down until he was accepting of the horrific abuse. He had experienced that feeling with Martínez and he knew how emasculating it was to realize that another human being could so easily control you.

Tom’s hollow voice eventually pulled Booker from his thoughts. “So now you know why I am the way I am,” Hanson muttered despondently. “I endured twelve months of rape, torture and emotional abuse. I know I need help, I’m not stupid, but I need to do it in my own time, in my own way. But if you don’t think you can be there to help me through all this bullshit, then tell me now because I’m tired Dennis, I’m so fucking tired of being alone and I need someone by my side that I can trust to stand by me, even when I’m at my worst.”

It was the ultimatum that Booker knew was coming and yet he felt completely and utterly unprepared. He honestly did not know if he _could_ be the person to help Tom through his transition, even though he himself had been through the same trauma. His life was in order; he had a good job, new friends and he was happy, happier than he had been in years. On the other hand, Tom represented chaos; he was an emotionally broken man who was in need of extensive therapy and even then, there was no guarantee that he would ever recover from the abuses he had suffered. If he agreed to help Tom, he was not only gambling with his own life and happiness, he was also gambling on Tom’s and he was not sure if he was prepared to do that.

Tom’s dark, tortured eyes gazed at him expectantly and he knew there was no escape. He could not procrastinate any longer; he needed to make a decision so that Tom could begin to travel towards the bright light of hope instead of forever flailing in the veiled darkness of his nightmares.


	37. Terms of Endearment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Once again, I apologise for my tardiness but life is busy and I am having trouble finding time to write. Please forgive me and I will try to get another chapter posted later this week.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: When Tom finally finished speaking, Dennis rubbed a trembling hand over his face.  Hearing Tom talk about the horrors he had endured had reawakened long buried memories of his own sexual abuses.  Tears had filled his eyes when his friend described the fear he had felt when Matheson told him he was to be Martínez’s cellmate.  The tears spilled over when Tom spoke about the gang rape he had endured on his second night in gen pop.  However, what had haunted him the most was how Talbot had claimed Tom as his own and had systematically beaten him down until he was accepting of the horrific abuse.  He had experienced that feeling with Martínez and he knew how emasculating it was to realize that another human being could so easily control you._
> 
> _Tom’s hollow voice eventually pulled Booker from his thoughts.  “So now you know why I am the way I am,” Hanson muttered despondently.  “I endured twelve months of rape, torture and emotional abuse.  I know I need help, I’m not stupid, but I need to do it in my own time, in my own way.  But if you don’t think you can be there to help me through all this bullshit, then tell me now because I’m tired Dennis, I’m so fucking tired of being alone and I need someone by my side that I can trust to stand by me, even when I’m at my worst.”_
> 
> _It was the ultimatum that Booker knew was coming and yet he felt completely and utterly unprepared.  He honestly did not know if he could be the person to help Tom through his transition, even though he himself had been through the same trauma.  His life was in order; he had a good job, new friends and he was happy, happier than he had been in years.  On the other hand, Tom represented chaos; he was an emotionally broken man who was in need of extensive therapy and even then, there was no guarantee that he would ever recover from the abuses he had suffered.  If he agreed to help Tom, he was not only gambling with his own life and happiness, he was also gambling on Tom’s and he was not sure if he was prepared to do that._
> 
> _Tom’s dark, tortured eyes gazed at him expectantly and he knew there was no escape.  He could not procrastinate any longer; he needed to make a decision so that Tom could begin to travel towards the bright light of hope instead of forever flailing in the veiled darkness of his nightmares._

**Terms of Endearment**  

The silence between the two men was deafening and as each minute ticked interminably by, Tom began to lose the small amount of hope he was clinging to that Booker would agree to stand by his side.  Getting to his feet, he pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans and gave Dennis a sad smile.  “I guess your silence pretty much gives me my answer,” he muttered quietly.  “If you don’t want to drive me to Doug’s I’ll find my own way home.”

Raising his gaze, Booker shook his head.  “No,” he replied softly.  “My silence just means that I need time to think about this Tommy.  I can’t let my heart rule my head, not this time.  I love you but if I’m going to help you, there are going to have to be some conditions.”

“Conditions?” Tom asked warily.  “What kind of _conditions?_   ‘Cause I’ve gotta tell you Dennis, I’m a little tired of living by someone else’s rules.”

Sighing heavily, Dennis stood up and placed his hands on Tom’s shoulders.  “Then you might not like what I have to say,” he replied softly.  “Firstly, you _have_ to agree to seek professional help.”  When Tom started to protest, Booker held up his hand.  “I’m sorry Tommy but I won’t be responsible for your psychological welfare.  If you refuse to see a therapist then the deal’s off.”

Tom glared back moodily at Dennis as he remembered the few therapy sessions that he had attended whilst in hospital.   He had trusted Doctor Farmer but his practice was in California and Dennis lived in Nevada, which meant he would have to find a new psychologist.  He had not told Booker about his breakdown and his resulting stay in hospital and he did not know why he had kept it a secret from his friend except that he felt somewhat ashamed at having needed specialist care.  The thought of being in long-term therapy terrified him; he did not want to discuss his rapes with a stranger, he just wanted to forget everything that had happened to him and move on with his life.  However, he knew that Dennis was as stubborn as a mule and no amount of gentle persuasion would make him change his mind.  There was no option, if he wanted to live with Dennis, he would have to agree to therapy.

Crossing his arms across his chest, Tom gave Booker a resigned look.  “Fine,” he sighed wearily.  “I’ll go to therapy.”

“Good,” Booker replied quietly.  He paused for several moments before continuing to speak in a soft voice.  “Now, condition number two… I think we should live together just as friends.”

Tom’s eyes widened in shock.  “ _W-What?_ ” he stammered in disbelief.  “Are you fucking kidding me?  I thought you said you loved me!”

Dennis’ eyes filled with sadness.  “I _do_ love you Tommy,” he murmured wistfully.  “More than you’ll ever know but that’s why it has to be this way.  I’ve been thinking about it ever since our fight.  You’re still so traumatized and I won’t hurt you by taking advantage of you.  I don’t want you waking up one morning regretting everything you and I have done.  If we’re to be together, then I want you to know in your heart that being in a homosexual relationship is what you _really_ want.”

Hearing the words _homosexual relationship_ immediately confused Tom.  He thought back to his response when Penhall had cried out in exasperation that he could not understand his need to be with Dennis because he wasn’t gay, _“It’s not about being gay or straight, it’s about two people, me and Dennis.  I don’t feel anything for other men but I do feel something for Booker.  I can’t explain it, he’s… different.”_   Now he began to have grave doubts about the whole validity of that argument.  Why did he want to be in a relationship with Dennis if he wasn’t gay?  It made no sense whatsoever to lust after only one man when he had no interest in any other men he had met.  Maybe he _was_ confused, maybe the rapes had temporarily altered his mindset and once he went to therapy, he would again only want a relationship with women.  However, what worried him the most was that he might have sought comfort from Booker only because he was suffering, because he needed to feel loved.  That he might have used Dennis in such a selfish manner horrified him.  Booker loved him, he knew this to be true and now he was not sure if he genuinely felt the same way.

Terrified that he would hurt his friend more than he already had, Tom came to a decision.   Stepping backwards, he gave Dennis an impassive look.  “I’ve changed my mind,” he mumbled.  “I want to go and live with Doug.”

It was Booker’s turn to look surprised.  Tom had pushed to stay in Nevada and now all of a sudden, he wanted to return to California.  Stepping forward, he pulled Tom’s arm from his chest and held his hand.  “Why the change of heart?” he asked calmly.  “I’m not saying we’ll never be together, I’m just saying that I want to take it slow.”

Tears filled Tom’s eyes and he choked back a sob.  “I don’t know what I _am!_ ” he cried out in a voice full of pain.  “ _Why_ do I have these feelings for you when I don’t feel them for any other men?  Oh God Dennis, I don’t want to hurt you!  I’ve caused you so much pain and now I’m terrified that I’m going to cause you even more!”

Turning away, he covered his face with his hands as tears of frustration and confusion coursed down his face.  Strong arms embraced him from behind and turning around, he laid his head against Dennis’ broad chest whilst his body heaved in distress.  He felt light fingers stroking his hair as Booker’s soft voice whispered in his ear.  “Shh baby, don’t cry,” Dennis murmured.  “I’m just as terrified of hurting _you_ and that’s why I think we should take it slow.  I love you Tommy, I’ll always love you but if you can’t love me back in the same way, then that’s okay.  We’ll always be friends, no matter what.  But you have to do what’s right for _you_.  If you want to live with Doug, I won’t stop you, but if you want to live with me then we take it slow and that way, nobody gets hurt.”

Lifting his head, Tom gazed at Dennis through teary eyes.  “I want to stay with you,” he replied softly.  

Pulling away, Dennis gently brushed the tears from Tom’s long lashes.  “Get some sleep,” he instructed softly.  “We’ve still got a couple of hours driving tomorrow before we get to Doug’s.”

Nodding his head, Tom turned towards the bed.  Moments later, he heard the door open and close and he was alone.

**

A loud rap at the door woke Tom from a troubled sleep.  He had suffered several nightmares throughout the night and the sound of his own screaming had pulled him from the distressing images that continued to plague his mind.  It was dawn before he had finally fallen into a dreamless slumber and he felt both physically and emotionally exhausted. Sitting up in bed, he saw sunlight streaming in through a chink in the curtain and he groaned loudly.  A second knock sounded against the door followed by Booker’s worried voice.  “Tommy!  Are you okay?”

Crawling out of bed, Tom rubbed at his tired eyes.  “Coming,” he muttered and walking across the room, he opened the door and let Dennis enter.  “Sorry,” he mumbled in embarrassment.  “I guess I overslept.”

Dennis cast his eye over Tom’s weary face.  “It doesn’t look like you’ve slept at all,” he replied with concern.  “More nightmares?”

Tom rubbed a hand nervously over the back of his head.  “Yeah,” he replied quietly, unable to meet Booker’s anxious gaze.  “But I’m okay.  Just let me have a quick shower and—”

“Hey,” Dennis interrupted softly and stepping forward, he pulled Tom into his arms.  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Hot tears pricked at Tom’s eyes but he quickly blinked them away.  Fatigue from lack of sleep had him on an emotional knife-edge and he knew if he started to cry, he might not stop.  Pulling free from Dennis’ embrace, he managed a half smile.  “I’m fine,” he reassured in a small voice.  “Just give me ten minutes.”

Realizing that Tom needed time to pull himself together, Booker nodded.  “Okay, I’ll go and put gas in the car and grab us something we can eat on the way.  Is there anything you feel like?”

The thought of food made Tom feel sick but he did not want to admit it to Booker.  “Whatever you get will be fine,” he replied with a forced smile.

Booker opened his mouth to ask Tom again if he was okay but he quickly closed it when he saw Tom’s eyes pleading with him to stay silent.  Instead, he gave his friend an understanding smile and left the room.

The tears that had threatened to fall finally spilled from Tom’s eyes and he choked back a sob.  He was so tired, so psychologically drained that he could no longer keep control of his emotions.  He longed for a peaceful night’s sleep, free of the nightmarish images that dominated his dreams and made him relive over and over, the horrors he had experienced.  

Pushing the heels of his hands against his eyes to stem the flow of tears, he slowly pulled himself together.  When his body stopped trembling and his tears finally ceased, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

**

Arriving outside of Doug’s apartment building, Booker turned off the ignition and gave Tom a reassuring smile.  “Ready?” he asked.

Tom nodded wearily.  It was only eleven o’clock in the morning but he longed to crawl into bed, close his eyes and block out the world for a few hours.  However, he knew he needed to push through the depression and at least pretend that he was coping, even if inside he was barely holding on.  Booker had arranged for Doug to leave a key with a neighbor, as he would not be home from his stakeout until later in the afternoon.  Dennis had relayed Penhall’s message that they were welcome to spend the night so they could rest up before returning to Nevada the following day.  However, Tom had been less than thrilled with the idea.  The last thing he wanted was Booker and Doug discussing him as though he were incapable of making any decisions for himself.  Even though knew he was an emotional wreck, he was sick and tired of being controlled by others and he wanted to start taking command of his own life, even if that meant making the occasional wrong decision. 

Opening up the car door, Tom followed Booker up the cement steps and into the building.  They climbed the stairs to the third floor and he waited silently as Booker retrieved the key from Doug’s next-door neighbor.  Dennis unlocked Penhall’s apartment door and walked inside and Tom trailed behind but he immediately began to feel dizzy as memories of his breakdown flooded into his mind.  His chest constricted and he felt the onset of a panic attack beginning to take control of his body.  As he started to tremble, he reached out and closing his eyes, he steadied himself against the wall.  Blood pounded in his ears and his vision began to blur.  As he struggled to breathe, he could hear Booker’s voice but he could not decipher the words and his panic increased.  Confusion overwhelmed him and when he felt strong hands grasping his shoulders, he lashed out in terror.  He was immediately immobilized by powerful arms and his fear intensified.  “ _NO!  NO!  NO!"_ he screamed hysterically.  “HELP ME!  HELP ME!  HELP ME!”

Seconds later, he was lying on his back fighting frantically to release his wrists from his attacker’s hold.  As he continued to scream, he began to hear a voice calling to him through the thick fog that was consuming his mind.  Opening his eyes, he saw Booker’s terrified face gazing down at him and the sudden realization that he was not being attacked completely overwhelmed him and he burst into tears.

Booker released his hold and gathered Tom into his arms.  “Oh Jesus Tommy,” he whispered against his friend’s sweaty hair as he held him close.  “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

A loud banging at the door startled Booker and he spun his head around in surprise when he heard a man’s voice yelling from the corridor.  “What’s going on in there?” 

Leaving Tom huddled on the floor, Booker scrambled to his feet and opened the door.  Penhall’s next-door neighbor stood in the hallway wearing a worried expression and his eyes widened in curiosity when he spied Tom crying on the floor.  “Is he all right?” the man asked nervously.

Booker suddenly felt fatigued by the events of the last few days and his shoulders sagged.  “Not really,” he muttered.  “But he will be, once I get him some help.”

The man nodded sympathetically.  “He must be the one Doug called an ambulance for a week ago,” he replied knowingly.  “He had some sort of breakdown and they kept him in hospital for a few days.  Poor Doug felt terrible about it but I told him it was the best thing, that his friend needed professional help.”

Although shocked by the man’s words, Dennis kept his expression neutral.  “Yeah,” he responded quietly.  “That’s exactly what he needs.”  

After thanking the man for his concern, he closed the door and stared down at Tom’s trembling form.  He now knew that time was of the essence.  Tom seemed to be getting worse and the sooner they returned to Nevada, the sooner he could find his friend the help he needed.  



	38. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Opening up the car door, Tom followed Booker up the cement steps and into the building.  They climbed the stairs to the third floor and he waited silently as Booker retrieved the key from Doug’s next-door neighbor.  Dennis unlocked Penhall’s apartment door and walked inside and Tom trailed behind but he immediately began to feel dizzy as memories of his breakdown flooded into his mind.  His chest constricted and he felt the onset of a panic attack beginning to take control of his body.  As he started to tremble, he reached out and closing his eyes, he steadied himself against the wall.  Blood pounded in his ears and his vision began to blur.  As he struggled to breathe, he could hear Booker’s voice but he could not decipher the words and his panic increased.  Confusion overwhelmed him and when he felt strong hands grasping his shoulders, he lashed out in terror.  He was immediately immobilized by powerful arms and his fear intensified.  “NO!  NO!  NO!” he screamed hysterically.  “HELP ME!  HELP ME!  HELP ME!”_
> 
> _Seconds later, he was lying on his back fighting frantically to release his wrists from his attacker’s hold.  As he continued to scream, he began to hear a voice calling to him through the thick fog that was consuming his mind.  Opening his eyes, he saw Booker’s terrified face gazing down at him and the sudden realization that he was not being attacked completely overwhelmed him and he burst into tears._
> 
> _Booker released his hold and gathered Tom into his arms.  “Oh Jesus Tommy,” he whispered against his friend’s sweaty hair as he held him close.  “It’s okay, it’s okay.”_
> 
> _A loud banging at the door startled Booker and he spun his head around in surprise when he heard a man’s voice yelling from the corridor.  “What’s going on in there?”_
> 
> _Leaving Tom huddled on the floor, Booker scrambled to his feet and opened the door.  Penhall’s next-door neighbor stood in the hallway wearing a worried expression and his eyes widened in curiosity when he spied Tom crying on the floor.  “Is he all right?” the man asked nervously._
> 
> _Booker suddenly felt fatigued by the events of the last few days and his shoulders sagged.  “Not really,” he muttered.  “But he will be, once I get him some help.”_
> 
> _The man nodded sympathetically.  “He must be the one Doug called an ambulance for a week ago,” he replied knowingly.  “He had some sort of breakdown and they kept him in hospital for a few days.  Poor Doug felt terrible about it but I told him it was the best thing, that his friend needed professional help.”_
> 
> _Although shocked by the man’s words, Dennis kept his expression neutral.  “Yeah,” he responded quietly.  “That’s exactly what he needs.”_
> 
> _After thanking the man for his concern, he closed the door and stared down at Tom’s trembling form.  He now knew that time was of the essence.  Tom seemed to be getting worse and the sooner they returned to Nevada, the sooner he could find his friend the help he needed._

**Confessions**  

Standing over Tom’s shaking body, Booker felt a mixture of both sympathy and anger.  He could see that his lover was far more traumatized than he had been when he was released from jail and he wondered how long it would take before his friend would be able to overcome the suffering he had endured.  His heart ached for Tom but he also felt anger and disappointment that he had kept his hospitalization a secret.  He felt hurt and betrayed that Hanson had not opened up to him about his breakdown and he could not help but begin to doubt his decision to take him back to Nevada.  He knew that if they could not be honest with each other, their relationship was destined to fail before it had even begun.

Sighing heavily, he offered out his hand and helped Hanson to his feet.  When he saw the misery in his eyes, he decided not to confront him about his stay in hospital so instead, he draped an arm around his trembling shoulders and gave them a squeeze.  “You look exhausted,” he commented.  “Penhall won’t be back for a while and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you slept on his bed for a few hours.”

Pulling free of Booker’s embrace, Tom gave his friend an irritable look.  “Don’t speak to me like I’m a child,” he sulked.  “I may be fucked up but I’m capable of making my own decisions.”

“Fine,” Booker huffed in exasperation.  “If you don’t want to sleep, don’t sleep.  It makes no difference to me.”

An awkward silence hung heavy in the air until Tom stepped forward and laid a hand on Booker’s arm.  “Sorry,” he apologized in a soft voice.  “I know you were only trying to help.”

Booker managed a small smile.  “I guess I need to stop babying you, huh?”

A soft blush tinged Tom’s cheeks and lowering his head, he shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans and shrugged his shoulders.  “I dunno,” he replied clumsily as he stared up at Booker through his long bangs.  “I guess I kind of like it that you want to take care of me.”

The sexual tension in the room was palpable and it was Booker’s turn to redden.  “Jesus Tom,” he muttered in embarrassment.  “We made a pact to take it slow.  Stop flirting with me.”

Tom’s lower lip protruded into a soft pout.  “Wasn’t,” he mumbled childishly.  “I just wanted you to know that I was sorry.”

Dennis felt a yearning in his heart but he quickly pulled his emotions in check.  Tom had a knack of making him go weak at the knees with just one look and he knew he had to tread warily.  It would be very easy to fall back into a sexual relationship, but that was not what his friend needed.  Stability and support were the key factors in helping Tom through the next phase of his life and sex would only complicate things.  However, he also knew that it would take all his self-control to resist Tom if he continued to make advances; he was after all a hot-blooded male and Tom was his Achilles’ heel.

Ignoring the compulsion to take Hanson in his arms and kiss him passionately, Booker decided he needed to take the detached approach.  “Well if you don’t want to sleep then let’s start packing the car,” he replied in a sharp voice.  “I’ve changed my mind and I want to leave as soon as we’ve spoken to Penhall.”

Seeing the hurt in Tom’s eyes, he immediately regretted the harshness of his tone and he swore under his breath.  He started to apologize but before he had the chance, Tom threw him an angry look and stormed up the stairs to Doug’s bedroom.

**

The two men had packed the car in silence and once they were finished, Tom returned to Doug’s bedroom and climbing onto the bed, he curled into a ball and fell into a troubled sleep.  Booker remained downstairs, silently berating himself for behaving in such a petulant manner.  He knew he had done it out of fear; fear of not being strong willed enough to ignore the sexual advances of a man damaged by abuse.  He could see the longing in Tom’s eyes, his _need_ to feel loved and it terrified him.  Tom’s words _“I don’t know what I am!”_ still haunted him and he was well aware that once Tom began therapy, there was a very strong possibility that their relationship might end.  Therefore, he had made the decision to step back and let his friend figure out his sexuality before he allowed himself to fall under his spell.

The sound of a key in the door pulled Booker from his ruminations.  Turning his head, he saw Doug walk into the apartment and standing up, he strode across the room and offered his hand.  “Hey Penhall,” he greeted somewhat wearily.  “Good to see you.”

Doug shook Booker’s hand whilst his eyes searched the room.  “Yeah, you too,” he replied somewhat halfheartedly.  “Where’s Tom?”

Dennis sighed heavily.  “He’s asleep.  He had a panic attack earlier and he hasn’t been sleeping well.”

“Yeah,” Penhall replied.  “Those attacks are pretty scary.”

Seeing an opening, Booker gave Doug a hard look.  “Yeah they are,” he agreed through clenched teeth.  “Which makes me wonder… why the hell didn’t you tell me that Tom was hospitalized when he was staying with you?”

Tossing his keys onto the coffee table, Penhall sat down on the couch and gave Dennis an apologetic look.  “Sorry,” he muttered.  “I guess I should have said something but I was protecting him.  He was pretty embarrassed by the whole incident.”

Booker relaxed and gave Doug a sympathetic look.  “Yeah, I understand the need to protect him,” he confessed quietly.  “But from now on, I think we need to encourage Tom not to keep secrets.”  

When Penhall remained silent, Dennis sat back down on the couch and let out a heavy sigh.  “He seems to be getting worse Doug,” he confessed in a tired voice.  “The nightmares, the panic attacks; they’re controlling his life.  He’s so fragile and yet he’s prone to these violent outbursts.  It’s frightening how quickly his mood can change.  I try to comfort him as best I can but I don’t know if I’m helping him or making things worse.”

Sitting down next to Booker, Doug could not quite keep the cynicism out of his eyes.  “So your solution is to take him back to Nevada, away from all his friends so you can what, _nurture_ him?”

Booker immediately saw red.  “ _Friends?_ ” he spat back angrily.  “What fucking friends would they be Doug?  Neither Harry nor Jude has bothered to contact Tom since his release.  Speaking of which, where is Fuller?  Did he just forget about Hanson once he was no longer part of Jump Street?  I’m trying to _help_ Tommy, so don’t you fucking patronize me!  Contrary to what you may think, I only want what’s best for him.  There’s no ulterior motive, I just want him to get well.”

Standing up, Penhall glared down at his ex colleague.  “Bull fucking shit Booker!” he replied angrily.  “I _know_ why you want Tommy to live with you.  I _know_ about the tape of you raping him, I _know_ that you had a relationship in jail and I fucking _know_ that he thinks he’s in love with you!  But the thought of the two of you together makes me sick and I wish to God that I’d lied to Tom and told him I couldn’t find you.  At least that way he’d get the help he needs without having to give _you_ sexual favors in return!”

Getting slowly to his feet, Booker’s eyes flashed dangerously.  “You think I _raped_ Tom?” he seethed through gritted teeth.  “You think that I coerce him into having sex with me?”

Taking a step forward, Doug’s stare remained fixed and his voice did not falter.  “Yes,” he replied coldly.  “I do.  I don’t trust you Booker, I never have and I never will.”

Clenching his fists into tight balls, Booker fought to keep his temper under control.  “You have _no_ idea what Tom and I went through,” he replied bitterly.  “We went through hell together and I would _NEVER_ do _ANYTHING_ to hurt him.”

A flicker of uncertainty showed on Doug’s face and he lowered his eyes for a moment before resuming his gaze.  “If you love him then let him stay here with me.”

“No.”  

At the sound of Tom’s voice, both men turned around in surprise.  Hanson stood at the top of the stairs, his pale face still displaying signs of exhaustion.  Moving quickly forward, Booker took the steps two at a time and reaching the top, he placed a worried hand on his friend’s shoulder.  "Tommy,” he murmured softly.  “I thought you were asleep.”

“I heard yelling,” Tom replied flatly.

“It’s nothing,” Booker reassured him.  “Doug and I were just—”

“DON’T TREAT ME LIKE A FUCKING CHILD!” Hanson yelled back angrily.  “I heard everything you said!”

Penhall started to approach the stairs but Tom held up his hand.  “Don’t,” he warned in a shaky voice.  “If you come anywhere near me I swear I’ll fucking kill you.”

A glimmer of fear flashed in Doug’s eyes and he immediately stopped moving.  Looking up at his friend’s angry face, he attempted to reason with him.  “Tom,” he replied in a calm voice.  “Just listen to what I have to say.  I want you to know that you have options, that you can stay here and continue treatment with Doctor Farmer.  Then when you’re well, if you still want to live with Booker you can—“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Tom screamed and running down the stairs, he shoved Penhall forcefully in the chest, causing him to stagger backwards.  “You told me you wanted me to be happy!  Why are you trying to stop me from being with Dennis?  Why do you want to hurt me?”

Concerned by Tom’s level of agitation, Doug held up his hands in surrender as he tried to diffuse the situation.  “Hey buddy,” he soothed.  “Forget about it.  I was just trying—”

“NO!” Tom yelled back, his face red with anger.  “I _won’t_ forget about it!  This is _my_ life you’re trying to control.  Men dominated me _every… fucking… night_ when I was inside and I won’t be told what to do anymore!  I’m fucking sick of it so leave me the fuck alone!”

Tom’s verbal attack rendered Doug speechless and he stood gaping in shock at the man who used to be his best friend.  Never had Tom spoken to him with such venom in his voice and it was then that he knew for sure that the Tom Hanson he knew and loved was gone.  The man standing before him was a stranger and he wondered if they would ever be able to repair their friendship.

Booker slowly moved down the stairs and stood next to Tom.  Although he felt a glimmer of sadness for Penhall, he was not about to intervene.  Doug’s spiteful accusations had wounded him deeply and he was not ready to forgive and forget.  Placing a hand on Tom’s shoulder, he gave it a gentle squeeze.  “Are you ready to go?” he asked softly.

Tom nodded silently and pushing roughly past Penhall, he headed towards the door.  Putting his hand on the doorknob, he paused for a moment before speaking without turning around.  “Send me the papers for my Mustang and I’ll sign it over to you,” he instructed in a detached voice.  “That should more than cover what I owe you.”

Realizing that he was on the verge of losing Tom forever, Doug started across the room but Booker stepped forward and blocked his way.  “I wouldn’t,” he advised softly.

Tears filled Penhall’s eyes and he raked a trembling hand through his hair.  “Tommy wait!” he called out frantically.  

Hanson ignored the heartfelt plea and without giving his friend another glance, he walked out of the door.

**

Sitting in the car, Tom chewed anxiously on his thumbnail as he waited for Booker to join him.  When Dennis climbed in behind the wheel and closed the door, he turned and gave him an apologetic smile.  “Sorry.”

Booker sighed and turned to face his friend.  “For what exactly?” he asked wearily.  “For not telling me about going to hospital or for screaming in my face?”

“Both,” Tom replied sheepishly.  “I should have told you about Doctor Farmer but I was too ashamed and as for screaming at you… I was angry because I’m tired of people trying to run my life.”

Reaching out, Dennis pulled Tom’s hand from his mouth and squeezed his fingers.  “I’m not trying to run your life Tommy,” he murmured softly.  “I’m just trying to help you.”

“I know,” Tom replied quietly before managing a small smile.  “And I really am grateful for everything you’ve done for me.  I know you have my best interests at heart.”

 “I do,” Booker agreed.  “So I want you to promise me something.” 

Tom hesitated for a moment before nodding his head.  “Okay.”

Placing his hand against Tom’s cheek, Dennis stared deep into his troubled brown eyes.  “As soon as we get back to Nevada, I want you to ring Doctor Farmer and get him to recommend a psychologist.”

Tom’s lower lip pushed into a soft pout.  “I already told you I’d get some help,” he muttered sulkily.

A small smile played over Booker’s lips.  “Yes, but this time I want you to _promise_ me,” he cajoled.

Tom paused for a moment before replying.  “Fine,” he sighed wearily.  “I _promise_ I’ll see a psychologist when I get back to Nevada.”

Leaning forward, Booker smiled and kissed Tom’s forehead.  “Then let’s get go home,” he replied cheerfully and turning on the ignition, he steered the Cadillac out into the afternoon traffic.  



	39. Everybody Needs Someone to Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Sitting in the car, Tom chewed anxiously on his thumbnail as he waited for Booker to join him.  When Dennis climbed in behind the wheel and closed the door, he turned and gave him an apologetic smile.  “Sorry.”_
> 
> _Booker sighed and turned to face his friend.  “For what exactly?” he asked wearily.  “For not telling me about going to hospital or for screaming in my face?”_
> 
> _“Both,” Tom replied sheepishly.  “I should have told you about Doctor Farmer but I was too ashamed and as for screaming at you… I was angry because I’m tired of people trying to run my life.”_
> 
> _Reaching out, Dennis pulled Tom’s hand from his mouth and squeezed his fingers.  “I’m not trying to run your life Tommy,” he murmured softly.  “I’m just trying to help you.”_
> 
> _“I know,” Tom replied quietly before managing a small smile.  “And I really am grateful for everything you’ve done for me.  I know you have my best interests at heart.”_
> 
> _“I do,” Booker agreed.  “So I want you to promise me something.”_
> 
> _Tom hesitated for a moment before nodding his head.  “Okay.”_
> 
> _Placing his hand against Tom’s cheek, Dennis stared deep into his troubled brown eyes.  “As soon as we get back to Nevada, I want you to ring Doctor Farmer and get him to recommend a psychologist.”_
> 
> _Tom’s lower lip pushed into a soft pout.  “I already told you I’d get some help,” he muttered sulkily._
> 
> _A small smile played over Booker’s lips.  “Yes, but this time I want you to promise me,” he cajoled._
> 
> _Tom paused for a moment before replying.  “Fine,” he sighed wearily.  “I promise I’ll see a psychologist when I get back to Nevada.”_
> 
> _Leaning forward, Booker smiled and kissed Tom’s forehead.  “Then let’s get go home,” he replied cheerfully and turning on the ignition, he steered the Cadillac out into the afternoon traffic._

**Everybody Needs Someone to Love**

_Ten weeks later_

As he unlocked Booker’s apartment door, Tom fought back tears of frustration.  He had just finished his twelfth therapy session with Doctor Franklin Pearce but his overwhelming sense of desolation and terror continued to consume his soul.  His nightmares were less frequent but his fear of crowds and of men in particular was just as strong as it had been two months earlier.  Even though he knew it was still early days, he felt discouraged and he wondered if he would ever be _normal_ again.  Part of his problem was that he did not feel overly comfortable talking to the elderly, rather decorous doctor and he could not help but think that the man was constantly judging him.  While it was obvious that his peers respected him; Doctor Farmer had given him a glowing recommendation; Tom often felt awkward and embarrassed when he spoke about his experiences.   Deep down, he still struggled with the thought that he should have fought harder against his attackers and that he should not have given in so easily.  It was a difficult fact to accept and he knew that he would forever be haunted by the knowledge that he was partially responsible for his own abuse.

Another reason why his recovery was so slow was that he refused Doctor Pearce’s recommendation that he take antidepressants.  He told the doctor that he wanted to feel better because he was learning to cope with what had happened to him and not just mask the symptoms by taking drugs to get a synthetic high, all of which was true.  However, what he did not discuss was his fear of becoming submissive through medication.  He had allowed prescription drugs to numb his mind in prison and he did not want to feel that level of detachment ever again.  The psychologist had tried on several occasions to get him to change his mind but he remained adamant.  No drugs, not now, not ever.

Then there was Booker.  He did not know how to explain to the elderly doctor what had happened at the warehouse or how their relationship had blossomed once they found themselves incarcerated together.  When he thought about it, even _he_ did not fully understand how his feelings had changed seemingly overnight.  One minute he had hated Dennis and the next he had been writhing beneath his touch and reaching some of the most explosive orgasms he had ever experienced.  None of it made sense and yet he could not deny his feelings.  He loved Dennis and he wanted him in his life.

Therefore, even though his depression was deepening, he chose not to disclose any of his doubts and reservations to Booker.  Instead, he continued the charade of pretending that the sessions were going well instead of admitting that he felt as though he was drowning in a sea of emotion.  He was terrified that if Dennis had reservations about his recovery, he might decide that he was not worth the effort and send him back to California.

Kicking off his boots, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door.  It had become a habit to shower after his therapy appointments.  He could not help but feel dirty after discussing the rapes with Doctor Pearce and showering was the only way he could rid himself of the feeling.  

Catching his reflection in the mirror, he quickly looked away.  He loathed the sight of his own face and he hated the man he had become.  Tom Hanson no longer existed; he was a stranger, a faceless man who could barely function in the outside world and he was now beginning to wish that Rory Bentley had put a bullet through his shattered heart and spared him all his misery.

As he slowly undressed and stepped under the warm spray of water, his thoughts turned to his most troubling problem… sex.  Since his last encounter with Booker, he had been unable to obtain an erection and he was beginning to wonder if he would ever again feel the exquisite pleasure of having an orgasm.  

Closing his eyes, he braced a hand against the tiled wall and attempted to relax his body as his fingers endeavored to coax his flaccid cock to life.  As the minutes passed and his cock remained unresponsive he felt a surge of anger course through his body and with an enraged scream of frustration, he tore the shower curtain from its rings and threw it across the bathroom.  Tears streamed down his face and he continued to scream as he violently punched his fist into the wall.  When his knuckles split, drops of blood trickled down the cracked tiles and created a macabre pattern of surrealistic artwork that portrayed all his pent up feelings of pain and humiliation.  With a sob, he collapsed to the shower floor and cradling his damaged hand, he wept for the life that his abusers had so brutally taken from him.  

Minutes passed and his tears slowly began to subside.  Getting to his feet, he turned off the faucets and exited the shower.  His hand throbbed painfully as he toweled his body dry and struggled back into his clothing.  Picking up the ripped shower curtain, he tossed it into the bath and walked out into the living room.  Glancing at the clock, he sighed when he saw that it was still early.  Booker would not be home for hours as he had a farewell party to attend after work.  One of the correctional officers was leaving to join the army and they were going to a Chinese restaurant to bid her farewell.  When Dennis had told him, Tom could not help but feel a flicker of jealousy.  Booker had a life whereas he was stuck in the monotonous cycle of sleeping, eating, watching television and therapy.  However, he knew that he was the only one to blame for his lack of a social life.  Even though Booker had suggested many outings, he refused to go outside unless it was absolutely necessary.  The fear of having a panic attack in public was too much to bear and so he continued to hide within the sanctuary of the small apartment.

Walking into the kitchen, he opened a cupboard and took out a bottle of scotch.  He suddenly had the urge to drink, to numb his mind of all his problems.  Tucking the bottle under his arm, he grabbed a glass with his left hand and went back into the living room.  Alcohol would dull the pain, both physically and emotionally, if only for a short while and then hopefully, he would fall into a state of unconsciousness and not wake up until morning.

**

The feel of light fingers stroking his hair pulled Tom from his slumber.  Exhaustion had finally taken over his body and he had fallen asleep on the couch after only three drinks.  He winced as his damage hand rubbed at his eyes and struggling to a sitting position, he saw Booker sitting next to him and he gave his friend a sleepy smile.  “Hey.”

Dennis gave a goofy smile in return.  He had drunk far more than he had intended and he was pleasantly intoxicated.  However, his smile quickly turned into a frown when he saw Tom’s bloodied knuckles.  Leaning forward, he gently took the bruised hand in his own and lifted it to his face for further inspection.  “What happened?” he slurred.

The scent of perfume assaulted Tom’s nostrils and he snatched his hand away.  “Why do you smell like a cheap whore?” he asked through gritted teeth.

A pink flush stained Dennis’ cheeks and he averted his gaze.  “I told you,” he replied awkwardly.  “It was Tina’s going away party.  We danced so I guess her perfume—”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” Tom screamed and jumping to his feet, he began to pace frantically around the room.  Stopping in front of Booker, he leaned down and jabbed his finger against a red mark on his neck.  “I don’t remember dancing involving sucking on each other’s throats!”

Booker’s blush deepened and he rubbed nervously at the love bite.  “Relax Tommy, we fooled around a bit that’s all.  You’ve got to remember, you and I aren’t—”

Grasping Dennis by the front of his shirt, Tom pulled him from his seat and slammed him against the wall.  “YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!” he yelled hysterically.  “You come home reeking of some slut’s cheap perfume and you tell me to _RELAX!_   How could you do this to me?”

Booker’s mood became sullen and he shoved Tom away.  “What exactly am I _doing_ to you Tommy?” he asked angrily.  “You and I aren’t a couple.  We aren’t anything because you refuse to leave the fucking apartment!”

Forgetting his damaged hand, Tom threw back his fist and punched Dennis in the jaw.  Already unsteady on his feet, Booker staggered backwards and fell against the wall.  With an enraged roar, he charged forward and attacked Tom.  Stumbling backwards, they tripped over the coffee table and fell heavily to the floor as each man landed painful blows to the other man’s body.  Although drunk, Booker easily got the upper hand and using his body to pin Tom to the floor, he grasped hold of his flailing arms and held them above his head.  “Stop!” he growled.  “This is fucking bullshit!”

Tom’s answer was to forcefully head butt Booker.  As their skulls cracked together, Dennis cried out in pain but he did not loosen his grip.  Staring blurrily down at Tom’s furious face, he could feel his friend writhing beneath him and suddenly he had a moment of clarity.  He was fooling himself by thinking he could forget his love for Tom by playing _grope the workmate_ in a restaurant restroom.  Tom occupied his thoughts day and night and judging by his friend’s jealous display of emotion, he felt the same way.  They were denying themselves the love they both so desperately craved because they feared hurting each other.  But love _was_ painful and if you did not feel the anguish along with the thrill, then you were not truly in love.

Without taking time to think about the consequences, Dennis pressed his mouth against Tom’s and kissed him passionately.  Tom’s body froze beneath him but seconds later, Booker felt a tongue entwining with his own and he let out a moan of pleasure.  His need became all consuming and he ripped frantically at Tom’s clothing, desperate to feel his skin beneath his touch.  He heard his own shirt rip as Tom’s hands clawed at the expensive material.  When sharp fingernails raked down the soft flesh of his back, he cried out as a mixture of pleasure and pain confused his senses.  Reaching down, he popped the button of Tom’s jeans and yanking down the zip, he heard an ecstatic cry as he released Tom’s cock and took him in hand.  

“Oh God,” Tom moaned against Booker’s mouth as he felt his erection growing.  “Faster!  Faster!” 

Booker began to increase his pace but within seconds, he heard Tom’s euphoric cry and warm fluid covered his fingers.  Shocked by Tom’s premature ejaculation, he lifted his head and gazed sympathetically down at his lover.  “Jesus Tommy,” he whispered.  “How long has it been?” 

Biting down on his lower lip, Tom gave Booker an embarrassed look.  “Not since the last time we were together,” he confided.  “I try but I just can’t…”  His voice trailed off and he averted his gaze.  “I’m a fucking freak.”

Lowering his head, Dennis kissed Tom lovingly.  “No you’re not,” he murmured against Tom’s full lips.  “You just need time and more therapy, that’s all.”

Not wanting to discuss his impotence or his therapy, Tom reached down and fondled Booker’s burgeoning erection through the material of his trousers.  “Do you want me to help you with that?” he asked mischievously.

Booker sucked on Tom’s lower lip for several moments before answering.  “How about we take a shower,” he suggested softly.  

Tom’s face flushed red.  “I um, kind of destroyed the curtain and cracked a couple of tiles,” he confessed quietly.  “Sorry.”

Picking up Tom’s hand, Dennis pressed the damaged knuckles to his lips and kissed them tenderly.  “Is that how you did this?” he asked and his brow knitted in concern as he studied the bruised and bloodied flesh.

“Yeah,” Tom replied in a barely audible voice.  “Sometimes I just get so frustrated.”

Booker’s eyes filled with compassion and he nodded his head in understanding.  Standing up, he helped Tom to his feet and keeping hold of his injured hand, he silently led him into the bathroom.  Gathering up the ripped curtain, he threw it to the floor and adjusted the faucets.  When the water ran warm, he turned back around and kissed Tom lovingly as he slowly removed his clothes.  

Standing naked in front of his lover Tom gazed at Booker with adoring eyes.  “I love you Dennis,” he murmured softly.

Tears filled Dennis’ eyes and clung to his long, dark lashes.  “I love you too baby,” he whispered.  

A hint of a smile passed over Tom’s lips as he began to remove Booker’s clothing.  “I know you do,” he replied gently.  “But I want you to show me how much.”

Smiling seductively, Booker stepped under the warm flow of water and held out his hand.  Tom grinned and grasping hold of Dennis’ fingers, he followed him into the shower.  But his smile quickly faded when he saw the red mark on Booker’s neck and placing his hands on Booker’s hips, he narrowed his eyes.  “Would you have slept with her?” he asked bluntly.

Dennis’ cheeks flamed red and he turned his head in embarrassment.  “I don’t know,” he replied honestly.  “Maybe.”

Biting down on his lower lip, Tom nodded his head.  “I guess I can’t blame you,” he sighed heavily.  

“Hey,” Booker exclaimed softly and cupping Tom’s face in his hand, he tilted up his chin and gazed into his dark eyes.  “All that’s changed now.  I want to start a relationship with you Tommy and when I’m with someone, I’m completely faithful.  Tina’s history.”

A shy smile played over Tom’s lips.  “Well in that case, I need to mark you as mine so she doesn’t get any ideas,” he murmured quietly.

Booker tilted his head back and exposed the long column of his throat.  “Do it,” he breathed in a voice heavy with arousal.

Moving forward, Tom placed his lips against Dennis’ throat and began to suck.  As the blood pooled to the surface he nipped lovingly at the taut skin.  “Yes,” Booker moaned and placing his hands on Tom’s buttocks, he pulled him close.  Tom’s mouth found Dennis’ and they kissed fervently, their tongues eagerly exploring each other’s mouths as warm water cascaded over their bodies.  The feel of Booker’s cock pressing against him caused a stirring in Tom’s groin and he moaned excitedly as he felt his second erection for the night beginning to swell.  Breaking the kiss, he nipped and sucked at Dennis’ earlobe.  “Suck me,” he breathed.

Dennis ignored his own need for release and smiling impishly, he dropped to his knees.  He could feel Tom’s legs shaking with anticipation and licking his lips, he placed his mouth against Tom’s cockhead and kissed it tenderly.

“ _Yesss!_ ” Tom hissed as his fingers tangled in Booker’s wet hair.  “Again, oh God Dennis, kiss it again.”

Dennis kissed the tip of Tom’s cock before parting his lips and sucking gently at the engorged head.  When Tom’s hips rock forward, he opened his mouth and ran his moist lips up and down the full length of the thick shaft.  He heard a soft cry as Tom started to fuck his mouth and relaxing his throat muscles, he allowed him full access.  As his own cock began to weep heavily, he reached down and wrapping his fingers around his erection, he started to masturbate.

“Yes,” Tom moaned as he stroked at Dennis’ tangled hair.  “That feels sooo good.  Oh Jesus… oh… oh… oh… oh God… oh God… oh God…”

Booker knew that Tom was close to climaxing and closing his eyes, he began to hum.  The gentle vibration against Tom’s sensitive cockhead pushed him over the edge and with a yell of delight, he grasped a handful of Booker’s hair and rammed his cock deep into his hot, moist mouth.  

Thick, salty fluid shot down the back of Dennis’ throat and he groaned in pleasure at the familiar taste.  With two swift strokes, he brought himself to climax and his own juices mixed with the flowing water and swirled down the drain.  As he lapped at Tom’s softening cock, he felt gentle hands guiding him upwards.  His legs shook as he slowly stood up and met Tom’s sated gaze.  A satisfied smile twitched at his lips and leaning forward he tenderly kissed his lover.  “Better?” he murmured against Hanson’s full pout.

Tom kissed his lover for several minutes before finally replying.  “You have no idea,” he sighed contentedly.  “I thought I’d never know that feeling again.”

Booker’s expression softened as he swept Tom’s damp hair from his face.  “This is just the beginning baby,” he murmured softly.  “There’s plenty more to come.”

Apprehension flickered in Tom’s eyes but he quickly lowered his gaze so that Booker would not notice.  He did not know if he was ready to have sex with Dennis but he knew that if he delayed it for too long, he could lose his lover forever.  



	40. Mayday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: “Hey,” Booker exclaimed softly and cupping Tom’s face in his hand, he tilted up his chin and gazed into his dark eyes.  “All that’s changed now.  I want to start a relationship with you Tommy and when I’m with someone, I’m completely faithful.  Tina’s history.”_
> 
> _A shy smile played over Tom’s lips.  “Well in that case, I need to mark you as mine so she doesn’t get any ideas,” he murmured quietly._
> 
> _Booker tilted his head back and exposed the long column of his throat.  “Do it,” he breathed in a voice heavy with arousal._
> 
> _Moving forward, Tom placed his lips against Dennis’ throat and began to suck.  As the blood pooled to the surface he nipped lovingly at the taut skin.  “Yes,” Booker moaned and placing his hands on Tom’s buttocks, he pulled him close.  Tom’s mouth found Dennis’ and they kissed fervently, their tongues eagerly exploring each other’s mouths as warm water cascaded over their bodies.  The feel of Booker’s cock pressing against him caused a stirring in Tom’s groin and he moaned excitedly as he felt his second erection for the night beginning to swell.  Breaking the kiss, he nipped and sucked at Dennis’ earlobe.  “Suck me,” he breathed._
> 
> _Dennis ignored his own need for release and smiling impishly, he dropped to his knees.  He could feel Tom’s legs shaking with anticipation and licking his lips, he placed his mouth against Tom’s cockhead and kissed it tenderly._
> 
> _“Yesss!” Tom hissed as his fingers tangled in Booker’s wet hair.  “Again, oh God Dennis, kiss it again.”_
> 
> _Dennis kissed the tip of Tom’s cock before parting his lips and sucking gently at the engorged head.  When Tom’s hips rock forward, he opened his mouth and ran his moist lips up and down the full length of the thick shaft.  He heard a soft cry as Tom started to fuck his mouth and relaxing his throat muscles, he allowed him full access.  As his own cock began to weep heavily, he reached down and wrapping his fingers around his erection, he started to masturbate._
> 
> _“Yes,” Tom moaned as he stroked at Dennis’ tangled hair.  “That feels sooo good.  Oh Jesus… oh… oh… oh… oh God… oh God… oh God…”_
> 
> _Booker knew that Tom was close to climaxing and closing his eyes, he began to hum.  The gentle vibration against Tom’s sensitive cockhead pushed him over the edge and with a yell of delight, he grasped a handful of Booker’s hair and rammed his cock deep into his hot, moist mouth._
> 
> _Thick, salty fluid shot down the back of Dennis’ throat and he groaned in pleasure at the familiar taste.  With two swift strokes, he brought himself to climax and his own juices mixed with the flowing water and swirled down the drain.  As he lapped at Tom’s softening cock, he felt gentle hands guiding him upwards.  His legs shook as he slowly stood up and met Tom’s sated gaze.  A satisfied smile twitched at his lips and leaning forward he tenderly kissed his lover.  “Better?” he murmured against Hanson’s full pout._
> 
> _Tom kissed his lover for several minutes before finally replying.  “You have no idea,” he sighed contentedly.  “I thought I’d never know that feeling again.”_
> 
> _Booker’s expression softened as he swept Tom’s damp hair from his face.  “This is just the beginning baby,” he murmured softly.  “There’s plenty more to come.”_
> 
> _Apprehension flickered in Tom’s eyes but he quickly lowered his gaze so that Booker would not notice.  He did not know if he was ready to have sex with Dennis but he knew that if he delayed it for too long, he could lose his lover forever._

**Mayday**  

The sound of soft snoring woke Tom from a light sleep.  He could feel the weight of Booker’s arm wrapped protectively around his waist and turning carefully, he gazed into his lover’s face.  A small smile twitched his lips when he noticed the bruised flesh on Dennis’ chin.  Their relationship was so tempestuous, it was unlike any other affair that he had ever had, but he found the explosiveness exciting and for the first time in months, he felt truly alive.  However, hidden beneath the exhilaration was a deep seeded fear of what he knew was to come, what he knew Booker expected… sex.  

Sighing heavily, he gently extricated himself from Dennis’ embrace and walked into the living room, being careful to close the bedroom door softly behind him.  He pulled out the sofa bed that he had been sleeping on for the last few months, grabbed a sheet and pillow out of the cupboard and lay down.  As he stared up at the ceiling, he wondered how long he would be able to avoid having penetrative sex with Booker.  It was not that he did not want to; it was that he did not know if he was mentally prepared for it.  He was terrified of having flashbacks of his rapes and he knew it would break Booker’s heart if he associated their coupling with the brutal attacks he had endured during his imprisonment.  It was something that he knew he should broach with Doctor Pearce but so far, he had been too embarrassed to divulge his feelings for Booker to his therapist.  

The sound of the bedroom door opening pulled him from his thoughts and turning his head, he watched Dennis shuffle sleepily across the room.  When his friend stopped and sat down on the edge of the sofa bed, he gave him an apologetic look.  “Did I wake you?”

Swinging his legs onto the bed, Booker lay down and faced Tom.  “What are you doing out here Tommy?” he asked drowsily.  “Don’t you want to share a bed with me?”

Tom rubbed his fingers nervously over his upper lip.  “It’s not that,” he mumbled.  “I’m just used to sleeping alone.”

Dennis reached out and tenderly brushed Tom’s hair from his face.  “Are you sure that’s all it is?” he asked gently.  “Because if we’re going to be in a relationship, we need to be honest with each other.”

“I’m sure,” Tom lied and averting his eyes, he successfully avoided Dennis’ inquisitive gaze.  

Although Booker was not convinced, he decided to go along with the charade.  “Okay,” he replied and sitting up, he climbed from the bed.  “I’m going to get a few more hours sleep.”

Tom nodded but as he watched Dennis walk back into the bedroom, he felt a pang of regret.  Their relationship was only just beginning and already he was keeping secrets from the man he loved.

**

Standing in a public phone booth, Tom struggled to control his breathing.  His hand shook so violently that he lost control of the coins he had been holding and they scattered over the cement floor.  Dropping to the ground, he frantically tried to pick up his money but his blurred vision impeded his task.  Choking back a sob, he quickly picked up as many coins as he could find and standing up, he closed his eyes and attempted to use the guided imagery technique to control his rising panic.  However, no matter how hard he tried, he could not get his mind to concentrate on anything but his growing hysteria.  Gasping for breath, he opened his eyes and lifting the receiver, he managed to fumble several coins into the slot.  It took him several goes before he dialed the correct number and leaning against the glass pane of the booth, he listened to the soft _brrring brrring_ of the ringing phone.  “Pick up… pick up… pick up,” he gasped and his knuckles turned white as he clutched the handset in his trembling hand.  “Please pick up!”

Just as he was about to give up hope, a sleepy voice sounded in his ear.  “Booker.”

As his panic intensified, Tom found it increasingly difficult to speak and all he could manage was a loud wheeze.  There was silence at the other end of the phone and for a one dreadful moment, he thought that Dennis had hung up.  

Seconds passed and when Booker spoke again, his voice sounded wary.  “Is anybody there?”

“D-Den-nis!” Tom choked and tears of relief began to stream down his face.  “P-Please h-help _me!_ ”

“ _TOMMY?_ ” Dennis yelled down the phone.  “What’s wrong?  Where are you?”

Afraid that his trembling hand would drop the receiver, Tom gripped it tightly and tried to control his frenzied breathing.  “Outs-side th-the b-bakery,” he sobbed.  “Oh G-God Den-nis p-please h-hurry!”

“I’m on my way,” Dennis shouted and the phone went dead.  

Dropping the phone, Tom’s legs gave way and crumpling to the ground, he started to hyperventilate.  The phone handset swung lazily on its cord in front of his face and he longed to hear Dennis’ comforting voice coming through the receiver.  Balling his hands into tight fists, he closed his eyes and started to count silently in his head.  The bakery was only a five minute walk from the apartment and he knew that Booker would run the whole way to be by his side as quickly as he could.  All he had to do was hold on for another few minutes and he would be safe.

A loud noise made him yelp and opening his eyes, he saw a man banging his fist on the glass door of the phone booth.  “G-GO AW- _WAY!_ ” he screamed and drawing his knees up to his chest, he covered his ears with his hands.

“Hey buddy, I need to use the phone,” the man called out impatiently as he started to open the door.

“NO!” Tom screamed and kicking out, he slammed his feet against the glass and screwed his eyes closed.  “LEAVE ME ALONE… LEAVE ME ALONE… LEAVE ME _ALONE!_ ”

Hearing the commotion, a small crowd of onlookers began to gather.  They peered curiously through the glass booth as Tom sat huddled on the ground, shaking uncontrollably.  Somebody laughed and in an attempt to block out the humiliating sound, Tom began to slam his head repeatedly against the glass pane.  He barely registered a woman’s high-pitched scream or the sticky wetness of blood as it trickled down his face.  However, his senses immediately tuned into Booker’s distressed cry and opening his eyes, he saw his lover fighting his way through the crowd of bystanders.

“Tommy!  Baby!  Let me in!  Let me in!” Dennis yelled as he struggled to push open the door that Tom had braced his feet against to stop anyone entering.  

Lowering his legs, Tom started to cry with relief and when he felt Dennis’ arms pull him to his chest, he clutched frantically at his lover as he sought out his comforting embrace.

“Oh baby, what have you done?” Dennis cried out softly when he saw the blood on Tom’s face.

“T-Take me home,” Tom hiccupped.  “P-Please Dennis, t-take me h-home!”

As he helped Tom to his feet, Booker glared angrily at the onlookers.  “Get out of our way, you fucking vultures,” he growled and wrapping his arm protectively around Tom’s shoulders, he shoved roughly through the crowd.  When they were out of sight, he stopped and gazed at Hanson’s bloodied face.  “I think we should get you seen by a doctor.”

Tom shook his head and his teary eyes pleaded with Dennis to understand his needs.  “I’m f-fine, I just w-want to g-go home.”

Dennis knew that Tom was anything but fine.  However, he did not want to add to his lover’s distress so he made the decision to take him home in the hope that he could talk him into seeing a doctor later on.  “Okay,” he murmured quietly.  “Let’s go home and get you cleaned up.”

They walked the remaining few blocks in silence with Booker keeping an eye on Tom for any signs of concussion.  Entering the apartment, Dennis sat Hanson down and taking the first aid kit out of the kitchen cupboard, he squatted on the floor and gently cleaned up the blood that had dried on his lover’s face.  He carefully assessed the large gash on Tom’s temple and once he was satisfied that it did not need stitches, he sat back on his haunches and gave his friend a measured look.  “Do you want to tell me what you were doing out there?” he asked.

Fresh tears welled in Tom’s eyes and he wiped them away with a shaky hand.  “I’m so sorry Dennis,” he mumbled.  “I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

Dennis’ eyebrows knitted together in puzzlement.  “Something nice for me?” he asked in confusion.  “What do you mean?”

Sniffing loudly, Tom managed a watery smile.  “I know how much you like donuts,” he replied in a quiet voice.  “You used to eat them all the time at the Chapel and I wanted to surprise you and at the same time, I wanted to prove to you that I could leave the apartment.  But when I got to the bakery, it was full of people and… I panicked.”

“Oh Jesus,” Dennis muttered and his face reddened as he remembered the harsh words he had shouted at Tom the night before.  “I didn’t mean what I said about you never leaving the apartment.  I only said it because we were fighting and I thought it was all forgotten once we... well… once we _made up_.”

Lowering his gaze, Tom clenched his fists into tight balls.  “It’s not just that,” he mumbled.  “I wanted to do something nice because I can’t give you what you want.”

“I don’t understand,” Booker responded in bewilderment.  “What can’t you give me?”

Tom’s eyes filled with sadness.  “Me,” he replied miserably.  “I can’t give myself to you completely.”

A flicker of understanding passed across Booker’s face.  “Oh baby,” he whispered.  “Is _that_ what this is all about?”

Tom nodded dejectedly.  “I love you so much Dennis,” he confessed.  “But I’m terrified of having sex with you.  I’m terrified that I’ll have a flashback and our relationship will be ruined.”

Tears filled Dennis eyes and getting up from the floor, he sat down next to Tom and pulled him into his arms.  “I love you too,” he murmured against Tom’s soft hair.   “And it has _nothing_ to do with sex.  I admit it, I _want_ to make love to you but I’d never pressure you into it.  When you’re ready, you’ll let me know and then we’ll move on to the next phase of our relationship.”

When Tom did not reply, Booker tilted up his chin and gazed into his troubled eyes.  “What does Doctor Pearce say about all this?” he asked carefully.

Tom’s cheeks flushed red and he looked away.  “I haven’t talked to him about it,” he muttered.

Dennis’ eyebrows raised in surprise.  “So he doesn’t know that you and I have already slept together?” he asked in astonishment.  “Does he even know that I exist?”

Tom kept his eyes on the floor as he fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat.  “No,” he replied honestly.  “I don’t know how to tell him.”

Booker stared at Tom in disbelief.  “Are you embarrassed about what we’ve done?” he asked in an injured voice.

Not wanting to hurt Dennis any further, Tom shook his head.  “Of course not,” he muttered.  “But I don’t want to talk about it now, I’ve got a headache.”

Dennis’ mouth remained in a firm line but he decided to let the matter drop.  Standing up, he gave Tom a weary look.  “Go into the bedroom and get some sleep,” he instructed quietly.  “I’ll wake you up in a couple of hours.”

Getting to his feet, Tom took hold of Dennis’ hand and squeezed his fingers.  “Are we okay?” he asked in a small voice.

Booker managed a forced smile.  “We’re fine,” he lied and turning away, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door.  



	41. A Time for Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Lowering his gaze, Tom clenched his fists into tight balls.  “It’s not just that,” he mumbled.  “I wanted to do something nice because I can’t give you what you want.”_
> 
> _“I don’t understand,” Booker responded in bewilderment.  “What can’t you give me?”_
> 
> _Tom’s eyes filled with sadness.  “Me,” he replied miserably.  “I can’t give myself to you completely.”_
> 
> _A flicker of understanding passed across Booker’s face.  “Oh baby,” he whispered.  “Is that what this is all about?”_
> 
> _Tom nodded dejectedly.  “I love you so much Dennis,” he confessed.  “But I’m terrified of having sex with you.  I’m terrified that I’ll have a flashback and our relationship will be ruined.”_
> 
> _Tears filled Dennis eyes and getting up from the floor, he sat down next to Tom and pulled him into his arms.  “I love you too,” he murmured against Tom’s soft hair.   “And it has nothing to do with sex.  I admit it, I want to make love to you but I’d never pressure you into it.  When you’re ready, you’ll let me know and then we’ll move on to the next phase of our relationship.”_
> 
> _When Tom did not reply, Booker tilted up his chin and gazed into his troubled eyes.  “What does Doctor Pearce say about all this?” he asked carefully._
> 
> _Tom’s cheeks flushed red and he looked away.  “I haven’t talked to him about it,” he muttered._
> 
> _Dennis’ eyebrows raised in surprise.  “So he doesn’t know that you and I have already slept together?” he asked in astonishment.  “Does he even know that I exist?”_
> 
> _Tom kept his eyes on the floor as he fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat.  “No,” he replied honestly.  “I don’t know how to tell him.”_
> 
> _Booker stared at Tom in disbelief.  “Are you embarrassed about what we’ve done?” he asked in an injured voice._
> 
> _Not wanting to hurt Dennis any further, Tom shook his head.  “Of course not,” he muttered.  “But I don’t want to talk about it now, I’ve got a headache.”_
> 
> _Dennis’ mouth remained in a firm line but he decided to let the matter drop.  Standing up, he gave Tom a weary look.  “Go into the bedroom and get some sleep,” he instructed quietly.  “I’ll wake you up in a couple of hours.”_
> 
> _Getting to his feet, Tom took hold of Dennis’ hand and squeezed his fingers.  “Are we okay?” he asked in a small voice._
> 
> _Booker managed a forced smile.  “We’re fine,” he lied and turning away, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door._

**A Time for Change**  

Dennis stood silently looking down at Tom’s tranquil face.  He had spent the last few hours thinking through his plan and even though he knew that they could not continue to live as they were, it did not make his decision any easier.  The roller coaster ride of ups and downs, separations and reunions had to end and he hoped that Tom would understand that sacrifices needed to be made on both sides if they were ever to become a real couple.  

Reluctant to disturb Tom’s peaceful sleep, he continued to gaze down at his lover for several minutes more.  Sighing heavily, he knew that he could not delay the inevitable forever and leaning forward, he tenderly stroked Hanson’s face.  “Wake up baby,” he whispered softly.  

Tom’s eyes fluttered open and a lazy smile played over his lips.  “Hey,” he murmured drowsily.  “What time is it?”

Dennis returned the smile.  “Time for you to get up,” he replied.  “We need to talk.”

Tom’s lower lip pushed into a soft pout.  “Don’t wanna,” he sulked and rolling onto his back, he took Dennis’ fingers in his own as his eyes danced mischievously.  “I want you to play with me.”

Not wanting to be distracted from what he had to do, Booker started to protest.  “Tom…” he began but looking down into his lover’s pleading eyes, he knew he would ultimately lose the battle.  Hanson was too alluring, too intoxicating to ignore, especially now that their time together was limited.  Deep down he felt bad because Tom had no idea of his plan and he was sure that his lover would not be looking at him with such yearning if he knew what their future held.  But he was weak and he was horny and he hoped that Tom would forgive him once he understood that he only had their best interests at heart.

Pushing all the negative thoughts to the back of his mind, he smiled lovingly.  “Move over,” he instructed softly and lying down on the bed, he rolled over and faced Tom.  

“Kiss me,” Tom commanded in a low voice, his dark eyes heavy with longing.

Leaning forward, Dennis pressed his lips against Tom’s full pout and kissed him lovingly.  When Tom’s tongue entwined with his own, he let out a soft moan.  For several minutes, they languidly explored each other’s mouths, enjoying the intimacy of the kiss.  Eventually, Tom pulled back and gazing deep into Booker’s eyes, he smiled impishly.  “Touch me,” he breathed.  

Sitting up, Dennis gave Tom a cheeky look.  “First I want to see you naked,” he murmured in a voice heavy with arousal.  

Tom’s eyes danced with excitement and he bit his lower lip seductively.  “You first,” he instructed softly.

Dennis felt a shiver of anticipation run through his body.  With Tom’s gaze upon him, he slowly stripped and by the time he was naked, his cock was fully erect.  Kneeling in front of his lover, he smiled at him alluringly.  “Your turn.”

Hanson did not waste any time.  Pulling his t-shirt over his head, he tossed it to the floor.  Popping the button of his jeans, he pulled down the zipper and struggled out of the tight fitting material.  Kicking them to one side, he removed his boxers in one swift motion and threw them across the room.  His own erection ached to be touched and lying back against the pillows, he gazed up at Booker with unconcealed longing.

Dennis let out a low moan of pleasure and dropping to all fours, he hovered over Tom’s naked body.  Lowering his head, he sucked at the long column of Tom’s throat.  “Tell me what you want,” he breathed against the taut skin.

Reaching up, Tom wrapped his fingers around the wooden slats of the bed head.  “Touch me,” he moaned.  

Lifting his gaze, Booker’s heart raced with excitement at the sight of Tom stretched out before him.  An image of his lover trussed to the bed in the warehouse flashed into his mind and his pleasure intensified.  Closing his eyes, he remembered the erotic feeling of his cock buried deep inside Tom’s body and his arms and legs began to tremble at the memory.  Reaching down, he wrapped his fingers around his lover’s cock and began to move his hand slowly up and down the erect shaft.  When he heard a loud groan of pleasure, he dropped his head and nibbled and sucked at Tom’s earlobe.  As Tom’s soft cries became louder, his own arousal intensified and he lost control of his thoughts.  “God I want to fuck you,” he murmured against his lover’s ear.

Tom’s body instantly stiffened but Booker was unaware how acutely his thoughtless words had affected his lover.  It was only when strong hands shoved against his chest that he realized that something was wrong.  Lifting his head, he stared down into Tom’s frightened eyes.  “What’s wrong?” he asked in bewilderment.

Pushing Booker forcefully away, Tom struggled to a sitting position.  Panic constricted his chest and his breathing became labored.  As blood pounded in his ears, his fear intensified and his senses became impaired.  Falling from the bed to the floor, he crawled blindly across the carpet.  His mind was so confused that he no longer knew what he was fleeing from; all he knew for sure was that he needed to find a protective sanctuary.  When strong hands grasped his arm, he yelped in terror and instinctively he began to lash out at his attacker.  “NO!  NO!  NO!” he yelled hysterically.  “DON’T TOUCH ME!  DON’T TOUCH ME!”

A stinging blow to his face sent him reeling and curling into a protective ball, he began to sob.  “Don’t hurt me,” he wept pitifully.  “Please… just leave me _alone!_ ”

Protective arms pulled him into a tight embrace and he collapsed gratefully against the muscular body.  As his panic gradually subsided, he opened his eyes and stared around the room in a daze.  Slowly, he lifted his head and gazed up at Booker’s troubled face.  “D-Dennis?” he muttered in surprise.  “What happened?”

Booker’s dark eyes filled with tears.  “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled ashamedly.  “I got carried away.  I never should have said what I said.  It’s just… oh Jesus Tommy, we can’t go on like this!  It’s going to tear us apart!”

The memory of Dennis’ words became clear in Tom’s mind and he lowered his head in embarrassment.  “Oh God Dennis, I’m sorry,” he muttered awkwardly.  “I don’t know why I reacted like that with you.  I know you’d never hurt me, it’s just that I’m so screwed up and—”

“Yes,” Booker interrupted miserably.  “You are.”

Tom could not keep the hurt out of his eyes.  “Geez Dennis, thanks a lot.”

Cupping Hanson’s face in his hands, Booker stared deep into his lover’s eyes.  “There’s no point in sugar coating it Tom, you need help,” he murmured gently.  “I was going to tell you later today but I guess now is as good a time as any… I want you to go back to California and continue your therapy with Doctor Farmer.”

Tom’s eyes widened in disbelief.  “You’re kicking me out?” 

“No,” Dennis replied softly.  “I just think--”

Scrambling to his feet, Tom gazed down angrily at his lover.  “You were going to jerk me off and _then_ tell me you want me to leave?” he shouted angrily.  “Well fuck you Booker!  I’m tired of this bullshit!  One minute you want me and the next you don’t!  Make up your fucking mind!”

Dennis eyes flashed dangerously and standing up, he moved in close so his face was just inches from Tom’s angry glare.  “Yeah?” he spat crossly.  “Well I’m fucking sick of this bullshit too!  If you’d just shut up and listen for a change, you’d know that I was going to suggest that I transfer to a Californian prison so that we could be together, you fucking prick!”

Tom felt his legs start to give way and sitting down on the edge of the bed, he grabbed a blanket and pulled it over his shoulders.  Unwilling to believe that Dennis was telling the truth, he stared up at him disbelievingly.  “Are you telling me you’d move back to California _just_ so I could continue my treatment with Doctor Farmer?” he asked skeptically.

Sighing heavily, Booker picked up his discarded boxers and pulled them on.  “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he replied testily.  “But I’ve got to say Hanson, after your outburst I’m starting to wonder if that’s such a good idea.  Maybe we should just go our separate—”

“NO!” Tom replied hurriedly and jumping to his feet, he pulled Booker into a tight embrace.  “I’m sorry!  Please Dennis, don’t give up on me now.  I just get so crazy sometimes that I don’t know _what_ I’m saying.  I didn’t mean it, honest!”

Determined to stand his ground and not allow Tom to manipulate him, Booker disengaged himself from his lover’s hold and took a step backwards.  “If we’re going to do this, then this time, we do it _my_ way.”

Tom stared back moodily.  “What the hell does that mean?” he muttered.  “I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me.”

Dennis’ expression softened.  “Yes you have,” he replied gently.  “But this time, I want to be involved in your therapy.  You haven’t told me anything about your sessions with Doctor Pearce… hell, I don’t even know if you’re taking medication.”

Lowering his gaze, Tom pulled the blanket protectively around him and stared at the floor.  “I don’t like antidepressants,” he confessed quietly.  “I don’t like how they make me feel.”

Stepping forward, Dennis pulled Tom into his arms.  “These are the things you need to discuss with the doctor,” he encouraged gently.  “You trust him don’t you?  That’s why I want you to continue your therapy in California, you need to have a doctor that you trust.  But no more secrets Tom, if we do this, we do it together.”

Tom knew that if he wanted his relationship with Dennis to work, he would have to overcome his fear of vocalizing his feelings and be honest with both his lover and his doctor.  His life would become an open book and although the thought made him uncomfortable, he knew in his heart that he could trust both men implicitly.  

Lifting his head, he gave Booker a small smile.  “Okay,” he replied with a sigh.  “We do it together.”

Dennis smiled in return.  “Good,” he replied softly.  Taking Tom’s hand in his, he led him to the bed and they both sat down.  Brushing Tom’s hair from his eyes, he let out a sigh.  “You have to understand something Tom,” he began quietly.  “It could take me a long time to get a transfer and that means you have to go back to California alone.”

Fear filled Tom’s eyes.  “Alone?” he echoed in a shaky voice.  “But I’ve nowhere to live.”

Booker squeezed his lover’s fingers and gave him an uneasy smile.  “You could go back to Penhall’s,” he suggested softly.

Tom shook his head violently from side to side.  “No way,” he replied defiantly.  “He hates you and he’ll try to split us up.”

Dennis pursed his lips and nodded his head.  “Okay,” he agreed quietly.  “What about Fuller?”

The thought of living with his ex Captain filled Tom with horror.  He respected and admired the man but he could not bear the thought of him witnessing one of his panic attacks.  Biting down on his lower lip, he stared up at Booker through his long lashes.  “I don’t think so,” he mumbled self-consciously.

Exhaling noisily, Booker gave Tom a frustrated look.  “Well what do you suggest?” he asked impatiently.

Tom knew he had to think of something but he was fast running out of ideas.  He had no money to be able to afford a place of his own and Dennis did not earn enough to pay for two apartments.  There was no choice, Penhall and Fuller were his only two options and he needed to decide which was the lesser of two evils.

Sighing softly, his shoulders slumped wearily.  “Okay, if Penhall will have me, I’ll stay with him,” he replied sulkily.

Pressing his lips against Tom’s hair, Booker kissed him tenderly.  “That’s my boy,” he whispered.  “And I promise you baby, this time everything will be different.”

Hanson’s eyes filled with tears but he kept his gaze on the floor so that Booker would not notice.  He had to believe that everything would be okay because if not, he was fast running out of options in his quest for happiness.  



	42. California Living

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Stepping forward, Dennis pulled Tom into his arms.  “These are the things you need to discuss with the doctor,” he encouraged gently.  “You trust him don’t you?  That’s why I want you to continue your therapy in California, you need to have a doctor that you trust.  But no more secrets Tom, if we do this, we do it together.”_
> 
> _Tom knew that if he wanted his relationship with Dennis to work, he would have to overcome his fear of vocalizing his feelings and be honest with both his lover and his doctor.  His life would become an open book and although the thought made him uncomfortable, he knew in his heart that he could trust both men implicitly._
> 
> _Lifting his head, he gave Booker a small smile.  “Okay,” he replied with a sigh.  “We do it together.”_
> 
> _Dennis smiled in return.  “Good,” he replied softly.  Taking Tom’s hand in his, he led him to the bed and they both sat down.  Brushing Tom’s hair from his eyes, he let out a sigh.  “You have to understand something Tom,” he began quietly.  “It could take me a long time to get a transfer and that means you have to go back to California alone.”_
> 
> _Fear filled Tom’s eyes.  “Alone?” he echoed in a shaky voice.  “But I’ve nowhere to live.”_
> 
> _Booker squeezed his lover’s fingers and gave him an uneasy smile.  “You could go back to Penhall’s,” he suggested softly._
> 
> _Tom shook his head violently from side to side.  “No way,” he replied defiantly.  “He hates you and he’ll try to split us up.”_
> 
> _Dennis pursed his lips and nodded his head.  “Okay,” he agreed quietly.  “What about Fuller?”_
> 
> _The thought of living with his ex Captain filled Tom with horror.  He respected and admired the man but he could not bear the thought of him witnessing one of his panic attacks.  Biting down on his lower lip, he stared up at Booker through his long lashes.  “I don’t think so,” he mumbled self-consciously._
> 
> _Exhaling noisily, Booker gave Tom a frustrated look.  “Well what do you suggest?” he asked impatiently._
> 
> _Tom knew he had to think of something but he was fast running out of ideas.  He had no money to be able to afford a place of his own and Dennis did not earn enough to pay for two apartments.  There was no choice, Penhall and Fuller were his only two options and he needed to decide which was the lesser of two evils._
> 
> _Sighing softly, his shoulders slumped wearily.  “Okay, if Penhall will have me, I’ll stay with him,” he replied sulkily._
> 
> _Pressing his lips against Tom’s hair, Booker kissed him tenderly.  “That’s my boy,” he whispered.  “And I promise you baby, this time everything will be different.”_
> 
> _Hanson’s eyes filled with tears but he kept his gaze on the floor so that Booker would not notice.  He had to believe that everything would be okay because if not, he was fast running out of options in his quest for happiness._

**California Living**

_Seven weeks later_

Staring down at the vial of pills in his hand, Tom chewed absently at his lower lip.  He had been in California for nearly two months and he had not found the transition easy.  His and Doug’s relationship was strained at best and at its worst, they bickered constantly.  Hanson knew that it was mostly his fault, Penhall had tried on various occasions to bury the hatchet but he was unwilling to let go of the animosity.  Although he was grateful to Doug for taking him in, his loyalty remained with Dennis and until Penhall accepted Booker as his lover, he _could not_ and _would not_ forgive and forget.  Dennis was the most important person in his life and sadly, the friendship he had shared with Doug was now just a distant memory.

With a heavy sigh, he unscrewed the cap of the bottle and shook two capsules into his hand.  Placing the vial on the kitchen counter, he placed the tablets on his tongue and swallowed them down with a drink of water.  Doctor Farmer had prescribed the SSRIs to help with both his depression and his anxiety.  However, it had taken over a month for him to feel any benefit from taking the drug and during that time, he had suffered a barrage of horrific side effects.  His anxiety levels had actually increased and he had suffered from insomnia, uncontrollable tremors, sweating and acute nausea.  It had been an emotionally harrowing time for him; he missed Dennis terribly and the feeling of abandonment played havoc with his moods.  He felt completely alone whilst trying to cope as best he could with the effects that the antidepressants had on both his mind and body.  Penhall had tried to be supportive but Tom had pushed him away, not wanting consolation from a man who still questioned his sexuality.  So instead, he battled through it alone; his daily phone conversations with Dennis the only solace he had during the difficult time.

But as the weeks passed, the side effects lessened and he began to feel some benefits from taking the medication.  His mood swings became less erratic and he often slept two or three nights in a row without suffering any nightmares.  He felt calmer and more able to cope with daily tasks such as grocery shopping or visiting Doctor Farmer.   His concerns that his libido would suffer proved to be unfounded; in fact, it now took him longer to reach an orgasm.  Although somewhat frustrating, he preferred to suffer the side effect of delayed ejaculation rather than be impotent and unable to attain an orgasm at all.  The sexual assaults had robbed him of so much and he _needed_ to be able to achieve sexual pleasure because in his mind, he had little else left in his life.  He had no job, no home and no real friends.  His lover was living hundreds of miles away and his only real contact with the outside world was with his therapist.

Picking up the vial of tablets, he screwed on the cap and placed them in the kitchen drawer.  His philosophy was out of sight, out of mind.  He did not want the constant reminder that he needed drugs to function like a normal human being.  Although he knew there was a strong probability that he would be on medication for the rest of his life, he held on to the slim hope that one day he would be able to live his life free of fear and without the need of treatment.

Slamming the drawer closed, he walked into the bathroom and shut the door.  He had a therapy appointment at ten o’clock and it was a fifteen-minute walk to the bus stop.  He had refused to use his Mustang since returning to California and although Doug had protested profusely, he had signed the car over to his former friend.  The car no longer meant anything to him; it was a part of his old life, a life that he barely remembered, a life that he no longer wanted to think about.

Turning on the faucet, he stepped under the warm flow of water and pulled the curtain protectively around the cubicle.  The therapeutic spray helped to calm his jittery nerves as he played over in his mind what he wanted to say to Doctor Farmer.  This was to be his tenth therapy session and he had made the decision that he could not procrastinate any longer.  

Today would be the day that he would finally open up and confess his love for Dennis.

**

When Tom arrived home several hours later, he felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.  Contrary to his fears, Doctor Farmer had been extremely understanding and supportive when he had disclosed his feelings for Booker.   The doctor had even allayed his fears that the rapes had somehow _turned_ him gay.  He had patiently explained to him that sexuality could not be defined into categories and that it was quite common to fall in love with a person of the same sex and yet have no other homosexual urges towards anyone else.  

However, it was Richard Farmer’s final words that had moved Tom to tears.  Love had nothing to do with ones sexuality; love was everything you felt in your heart and it was essentially blind.  It was the need to protect, to comfort, to laugh, to share, to cry, to touch, to listen, to advise but most importantly, it was the overwhelming need to be with that person forever.  Love was emotion, not physicality and it knew no prejudices.

Sitting down on the couch, Tom suddenly felt the urge to make things right with Doug because in truth, he missed their relationship.  He wanted to explain to him everything that Doctor Farmer had said but he was afraid that he would not be able to do it so eloquently and that his clumsy attempt might do more harm than good.  His feelings for Dennis were real and he wanted Penhall to understand and accept that he was the one he wanted to be with for the rest of his life.  It was not a whim and he was not confused, he was simply _in love_.

Smiling to himself, he got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen.  For the first time in as long as he could remember, he actually felt hungry.  He decided to make a sandwich and if he still felt high-spirited, he would walk down to the local pizza bar in the evening.  Doug was not due home until the early hours of the following morning and he hoped that it would give him enough time to figure out what to say so that they could begin to repair their shattered relationship.

Taking out a loaf of bread, he began to sing quietly to himself.  For the first time in months, he could honestly say that he felt happy.

**

A loud ringing pulled Tom from a deep sleep and reaching out his hand, he fumbled for the phone that sat on the coffee table next to the couch that served as his bed.  When his fingers finally connected with the hard plastic receiver, he picked it up and pressed it to his ear.  “Hello?” he mumbled sleepily.

“Hey Tommy,” Booker murmured down the phone.  “Do you miss me?”

A lazy smile played over Tom’s lips and stretching out his cramped legs, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.  “You know I do,” he replied drowsily.  “When are you coming to see me?”

“Soon baby,” Dennis promised.  “Work’s a little crazy at the moment with all the new rules being implemented.  But as soon as I can, I’ll take a few days off, okay?”

Tom’s lower lip pushed into a soft pout.  “I guess,” he sighed in disappointment.  “What about the transfer, have you heard anything?”

It was Booker’s turn to sigh.  “Not yet,” he answered dejectedly.  “I’ve filed the paperwork but we both know the bureaucracy involved.  But don’t worry, they can’t ignore me forever.  It’ll happen eventually.”

“Eventually could be next year,” Tom moaned gloomily.  “I miss your touch… I miss your scent… I miss _you_.”

When Dennis spoke, his voice sounded breathless.  “Are you alone?”

Tom’s eyebrows knitted in confusion.  “Yes,” he replied softly.  “Why?”

There was a long pause before Booker asked quietly, “Are you naked?”

A knowing grin formed on Tom’s lips.  “No,” he chuckled.  “Are you?”

“Yes,” Booker murmured and Tom immediately felt a stirring in his groin.  When Dennis spoke again, his voice sounded low and husky.  “Take off your boxers.”

Struggling out of his underwear, Tom’s breathing became heavy as he waited for instructions.  Several seconds passed before Dennis finally spoke.  “Do you want to get hard baby?” he asked in a soft voice.

“ _Yesss_ ,” Tom moaned and closing his eyes, he imagined that Booker was in the room.  “Tell me what to do.”

Dennis licked his lips before replying.  “I want you to lightly touch yourself and I want you to tell me how it feels,” he whispered. 

Tom’s breathing intensified and lowering his hand, he brushed his fingers sensually over his growing erection.  A soft moan escaped his lips and his back arched at the thrill of the sensation.  “Oh God,” he breathed softly.  “It feels so good.”

Heavy breathing sounded down the phone before Booker spoke again.  “Are you hard?” he rasped.

“Fuck yeah,” Tom panted as his fingers traveled up and down his cock.  

“Good,” Booker murmured seductively.  “Now I want you to gently caress your cockhead.”

“Ohhh,” Tom groaned as he rubbed the weeping tip of his cock with his thumb.  “Ohhh _Dennis_.”

“That’s it Tommy,” Booker whispered.  “Say my name.”

“Oh Dennis… oh Dennis… oh Dennis,” Tom moaned breathlessly.  “I need more.”

Dennis’ own cock ached to be touched and reaching down, he fondled his erection.  “I’m stroking myself baby,” he panted heavily.  “You make me so horny.  Do you want to jerk off?  I want to hear you jerking off… but do it _slowly_ , I want it to last.”

“ _Yesss!"_ Tom hissed and wrapping his fingers around his cock, he began to tug.  “Oh Dennis… oh fuck… oh… oh… oh…” 

“Does it feel good?” Dennis moaned as he worked his fingers over his erection.  “Can you imagine me touching you?”

“God yes!” Tom groaned excitedly as his body squirmed beneath his own touch.  “I’m so hard Dennis!  I’m so fucking hard!”

“Do you want to jerk faster?” Booker gasped as his own hand began to pump rapidly over his leaking cock.  “Do you want to come?”

“ _YES!_ ” Tom cried out as his pace increased.  “I wanna come… I wanna come… I wanna _come!_ ”

“Tell me you love me,” Dennis panted excitedly.

“I _love_ you!”

“Tell me you want me.”

“I _want_ you!”

“Tell me you need me.”

“I _NEED_ you!  Oh God Dennis I need you!”

“Pull harder,” Booker groaned loudly.  “I want to hear you scream my name.”

“Ohhh… ohhh… ohhh…” Tom gasped.  “Oh God… oh God… oh Dennis I’m coming… I’m coming… oh fuck… oh fuck… oh _DENNIS!_ ”

Warm semen shot forcefully over Tom’s stomach and coated his fingers.  Seconds later, he heard Dennis’ ecstatic cry as his orgasm hit hard and fast and then there was only the sound of heavy panting as both men basked in the afterglow of their release.  

Minutes passed before Tom opened his eyes and a slow grin spread across his face.  He could still hear Dennis’ heavy breathing and his heart swelled with love.  Wiping his fingers on his discarded boxers, he sat up and ran a trembling hand through his tousled hair.  “ _That_ was fucking amazing,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” Booker chuckled.  “Who would have thought phone sex could be so good?”

Tom’s grin widened.  “Don’t get any ideas,” he replied.  “I want the real thing next time.”

“That’s a promise,” Booker responded quietly.  “I hate being away from you Tommy but it’s for the best, you do understand that don’t you?”

Exhaling heavily, Tom leaned back and rested his head on the back of the couch.  “I know,” he muttered.  “But I can’t help it Dennis, I miss you.”

“I miss you too baby,” Booker replied.  “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” Tom sighed.  “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Dennis whispered and the phone went dead.

Hanging up the receiver, Tom picked up his boxers and padded into the bathroom.  Pulling his sweaty t-shirt over his head, he tossed both items into the hamper and turned on the shower.  The phone sex had been exhilarating and completely unexpected but it had also heightened his feelings of loneliness.  Knowing that he was hundreds of miles away from Booker caused a physical pain in his heart and he longed for the day when he could once again, feel his lover’s touch.

**

A soft voice calling his name pulled Tom from a light sleep.  Sitting up, he saw Doug sitting on the arm of the couch, a worried frown creasing his forehead.  He immediately squinted against the harsh light of the overhead globe as he ran his fingers through his hair.  “What time is it?” he mumbled.

“It’s still early,” Penhall muttered.  “I’m sorry Tom, I didn’t want to wake you but I think you need to hear this.”

Swinging his legs over the side of the couch, Tom stood up.  “For fuck’s sake Penhall, don’t start,” he snapped.  “Can we at least go one day without an argument?”

“This isn’t about Booker,” Doug started but he immediately stopped and shook his head.  “No, actually it is, but not in the way you think.”

Tom was in no mood to play games.  It had been a good day and he was feeling on top of the world.  The last thing he needed was Penhall ruining his happy disposition.  A heavy scowl marred his features and he glowered at his ex colleague.  “So what is it now?” he asked angrily.  “What _else_ is it about Booker that you have a problem with?”

Despite Tom’s harsh words, Doug’s dark eyes remained full of compassion.  “Hanson, I have to tell you something and it’s something you’re not going to want to hear.  It’s about the video tape of you and Booker.”

Tom’s fists clenched into tight balls.  “Jesus Christ Doug,” he seethed through gritted teeth.  “Why can’t you—”

“The tape’s in circulation!” Penhall revealed in a rush of words.  “Bentley made copies and they’re being sold underground.”

Tom’s legs began to shake and sitting down heavily on the couch, he stared at Doug with wide eyes.  “W-What?”

Penhall rubbed a trembling hand across his jaw.  “I got a phone call from Harry, he works in vice now.  The tape was seized during a raid.  He saw it and—”

“He _saw_ it!” Tom cried out in horror.  “Oh my God! Oh God… oh God… oh God…”  As panic squeezed his chest, he began to hyperventilate and as his agitation increased, his world once again came crashing down around him.


	43. Faraway Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **I apologise for the length of time it is taking me to post chapters at this time. My only excuse is that I have struggled to get back into "writing mode" since my holidays. Please bear with me :)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: A soft voice calling his name pulled Tom from a light sleep.  Sitting up, he saw Doug sitting on the arm of the couch, a worried frown creasing his forehead.  He immediately squinted against the harsh light of the overhead globe as he ran his fingers through his hair.  “What time is it?” he mumbled._
> 
> _“It’s still early,” Penhall muttered.  “I’m sorry Tom, I didn’t want to wake you but I think you need to hear this.”_
> 
> _Swinging his legs over the side of the couch, Tom stood up.  “For fuck’s sake Penhall, don’t start,” he snapped.  “Can we at least go one day without an argument?”_
> 
> _“This isn’t about Booker,” Doug started but he immediately stopped and shook his head.  “No, actually it is, but not in the way you think.”_
> 
> _Tom was in no mood to play games.  It had been a good day and he was feeling on top of the world.  The last thing he needed was Penhall ruining his happy disposition.  A heavy scowl marred his features and he glowered at his ex colleague.  “So what is it now?” he asked angrily.  “What else is it about Booker that you have a problem with?”_
> 
> _Despite Tom’s harsh words, Doug’s dark eyes remained full of compassion.  “Hanson, I have to tell you something and it’s something you’re not going to want to hear.  It’s about the video tape of you and Booker.”_
> 
> _Tom’s fists clenched into tight balls.  “Jesus Christ Doug,” he seethed through gritted teeth.  “Why can’t you—”_
> 
> _“The tape’s in circulation!” Penhall revealed in a rush of words.  “Bentley made copies and they’re being sold underground.”_
> 
> _Tom’s legs began to shake and sitting down heavily on the couch, he stared at Doug with wide eyes.  “W-What?”_
> 
> _Penhall rubbed a trembling hand across his jaw.  “I got a phone call from Harry, he works in vice now.  The tape was seized during a raid.  He saw it and—”_
> 
> _“He saw it!” Tom cried out in horror.  “Oh my God! Oh God… oh God… oh God…”  As panic squeezed his chest, he began to hyperventilate and as his agitation increased, his world once again came crashing down around him._

**Faraway Eyes**  

Grabbing his bag out of the trunk of his Cadillac, Dennis slammed the lid closed and stood for a moment staring up at Penhall’s apartment building.  He had received the phone call from Doug five days before, informing him that the video was now in circulation.  Upon hearing the news, his immediate concern had been for Tom.  His lover’s happy disposition over the last few weeks had been testament to the many positive steps he had made in his road towards recovery and it had given him great joy to hear his friend sound so positive about his future.  However, after speaking to Doug, he now knew that his lover had again spiraled into a deep black pit of depression and his mental state was as fragile as it had been when he first left prison.  Although deeply concerned, the true gravity of the situation only became clear when Tom refused to speak to him and it was then that he knew that if he did not act immediately, he would lose his friend forever.  Their relationship would be over and there would be no more second chances.

 

It was then that he made his decision.  He could not afford to sit around and wait for the Nevada prison system to coordinate his transfer, he needed to leave his job and go to California to be with Tom.

Steeling himself for what he was about to face, Booker crossed the road and walked into the lobby of Penhall’s apartment building.  Doug had fully prepared him and he was under no illusions as to what he would see when he laid eyes on Tom.  His lover had stopped eating, was not sleeping and he had once again withdrawn into himself.  His debilitating panic attacks had returned and he suffered up to four or five a day.  He had once again refused to leave the safety of the apartment and he spent his days curled on the couch staring blankly at the television. 

However, it was when Tom stopped taking Dennis’ phone calls that Penhall knew that the situation was becoming dire and he had phoned Richard Farmer and begged him to visit and assess Hanson’s mental state.  After his examination, Doctor Farmer had increased Tom’s medication and had promised to visit again in a few days.  It was however, little consolation for Doug, who was in the middle of a case and hated leaving Tom alone, so when Dennis had rung him to say he was coming to California, he had sighed with relief.   As much as he loved Hanson, he did not feel equipped to deal with his depression and he was more than happy to hand the reins over to Booker.

Taking the stairs up to the third floor, Dennis could feel his muscles tightening.  His last words to Tom had been on the night they had phone sex and he had told him he loved him.  That had not changed, if anything, he loved him a little more as each day passed but he was nervous about demonstrating his love.  Tom’s mind often confused affection with the rapes and now that he had regressed, Dennis knew that he needed to tread warily.  Any wrong move could push Tom into a state of psychosis and he did not want to see his lover hospitalized again.  Hanson had suffered enough traumas for one still so young and hospitalization would just add to his feelings of hopelessness.

Walking down the corridor, Booker stopped outside of Penhall’s door and took a deep breath.   He had planned his arrival for early in the morning so that he could speak to Doug privately before seeing Tom.  Penhall had advised him that exhaustion usually took its toll on Hanson around dawn and he would fall into a fatigued sleep for several hours before the nightmares woke him up.  It was now 6 a.m., which gave Dennis about an hour to discuss things with Doug.  Then, when Tom woke up, he would tell him his plan and they could once again pick up the pieces of their lives and start over.

Rapping his knuckles softly on the door, he tried to settle his nerves.  The knowledge that his lover was in pain overshadowed the excitement of seeing him after weeks of living apart.  He shuffled nervously as he waited for the door to open.  Inside, he heard soft footsteps and a moment later, the door opened and Doug’s fatigued face stared through the crack.

“Hey Doug,” Dennis greeted quietly.  “Is he still asleep?”

Penhall nodded his head and opened the door so that Dennis could enter.  “He’s upstairs,” he whispered.  “He sleeps on a mattress by my bed now… not that he sleeps much but it means I don’t disturb him when I get up to go to work.”

Booker nodded silently and placing his bag on the floor, he gave Doug a worried look.  “Does he know I’m coming?”

Doug shifted uncomfortably before again nodding his head.  “Yeah, I told him,” he muttered softly.  “At first he got angry, telling me that I shouldn’t have called you.  But when I pointed out that you would have known something was wrong because he refused to take your phone calls, he settled down again.”

“Oh,” Dennis replied dejectedly and his eyes filled with sadness.  “I thought he’d be pleased to see me.”

Placing a meaty hand on Booker’s shoulder, Doug gave him a gentle smile.  “Trust me, he will be but you’ve got to understand, this whole thing with the video has shaken him to the core.  He’s ashamed and embarrassed and they aren’t easy emotions for Tom to deal with.  He was always such a private person and now…”  Doug lowered his gaze so that he did not have to meet Booker’s eyes.  “He’s feeling violated all over again.”

Dennis could feel his hands balling into fists and he struggled to keep his voice low.  “Does _Tom_ think I violated him or is that just you putting words in his mouth?” he hissed angrily.

Penhall blushed with embarrassment.  Before he replied, he motioned towards the couch.  Once Dennis was sitting stiffly on the edge of the seat, he sat down next to him and sighed heavily.  “Look Booker,” he murmured quietly.  “You and I have had a lot of animosity since Tom was kidnapped and I admit it, I may have said some things that I shouldn’t have.  But we need to put that behind us and focus on Hanson’s recovery.”

Dennis’ dark eyes gave Doug a penetrating stare.  “So are you now saying that you _don’t_ think I raped Tom?” he asked through gritted teeth.  

The blush on Penhall’s cheeks deepened and he nodded his head.  “That’s exactly what I’m trying to say,” he mumbled apologetically.  “All I can say in my defense is that I was angry and confused... confused about you and Tom being together because I never imagined him wanting to be with another guy.  But looking back, I see how much you love him and I know you’d never do anything to intentionally hurt him.  I know now that you didn’t rape Tom and if I’m honest, I think I even knew it back then.  It was a stupid thing to say and I’m really sorry I said it.”

It was a resounding victory for Booker to hear Penhall admit that he was in the wrong but he did not feel the need to revel in his conquest.  He appreciated how difficult it was for Doug to confess his biases and he was happy to leave it at that.  Unclenching his fists, he let go of his anger and extended his hand in friendship.  “Bygones?” he asked with a small smile.

Doug’s lips formed his familiar lopsided grin.  “Bygones,” he agreed as he shook Dennis’ hand.  Happy that they had managed to put their past animosities behind them he turned his attention to the present.  “Are you hungry?”

Shaking his head, Dennis’ eyes gazed up towards the mezzanine floor that served as Doug’s bedroom.  “No,” he replied quietly.  “I just want to know how he is.”

Understanding Booker’s need to talk about Tom, Doug stood up and gave his new friend a smile.  “Okay, let me make a pot of coffee and then we can talk.”

Settling back against the couch cushions, Dennis watched Doug as he busied himself in the kitchen.  In a few short minutes he would have an update on Tom’s demeanor and then he would know what he was about to face.

**

Booker and Doug spent the next hour discussing Tom’s rapid decline in hushed tones and it had pained Dennis to hear all the details of Tom’s recent panic attacks.  However, the one bright light was when Doug told him that Doctor Farmer continued to monitor his patient by making daily phone calls and that he had even put himself on twenty-four hour call if needed.  For Dennis, it was a huge relief to know that Tom had a professional who truly cared about his wellbeing and it made the months of separation that they had endured worthwhile.  As much as he wanted to believe that his love and care could help Tom through his traumas, he was under no illusions; Tom needed Richard Farmer in his life and probably would for many years to come.  

He also felt better knowing that he and Doug had managed to put their differences behind them and that they were now on the same page regarding Tom’s welfare.  Although not always perceptive, Doug understood the need to give the two men some space and therefore, he left for work early so that they could have their privacy.  Now, as Dennis stood at the bottom of the stairs that led up to Doug’s bedroom, he felt his heart pounding with a mixture of trepidation and excitement.  It had been two months since he had seen Tom and he longed to lay his eyes on his lover’s beautiful face.

Taking slow, measured steps, he climbed up the metal staircase and reaching the top, his gaze immediately turned to the figure lying curled up on a mattress on the floor.  Tears filled his eyes as he took in Tom’s pale, drawn face and moving silently across the room, he sat down on the floor next to the sleeping form.  He remained silent, content to watch his lover sleep, although it took all his resolve to resist the urge to run his finger down the smooth, white skin of Tom’s tranquil face.  Ten minutes passed, then twenty and when Dennis shifted his position slightly he saw Tom’s body twitch.  Not wanting to startle his lover, he waited until Tom’s eyes started to flutter before he leaned forward and whispered in his ear.  “Baby it’s Dennis, wake up.”

Tom’s eyes slowly opened and turning his head, he focused on Booker.  He showed no signs of happiness when he saw his friend gazing down at him, instead, he ran his fingers through his tousled hair and let out a heavy sigh.  “What are you doing here?”

A stab of pain pierced Dennis’ heart at the tone of Tom’s voice but he remained calm.  “Don’t play games Tommy,” he replied softly.  “Doug told you I was coming.”

Sitting up, Tom pulled his bent legs up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees.  “Yeah he did,” he muttered flatly.  “But that doesn’t answer my question.  What are you doing here?”

Dennis could feel his frustration building and tiredness from the trip made him snap.  “Oh for fuck’s sake Tom!” he cried out.  “I know about the tape and Doug told me how badly you reacted to the news.  You stopped taking my phone calls so what was I supposed to do, stay in Nevada and wait until you decided you wanted to talk to me again?  We’re a couple, or at least I thought we were.  Why are you shutting me out?”

Wrapping his arms tightly around his legs, Tom avoided Dennis’ gaze by resting his forehead on his knees.  Minutes ticked by before he lifted his head and stared impassively back at Booker.  “That tape changes everything,” he mumbled despondently.

“Why?” Dennis exclaimed in frustration.  “We knew about the tape, why does it matter now?”

“BECAUSE PEOPLE ARE WATCHING US!” Tom screamed hysterically and clambering to his feet, he began to pace agitatedly around the room.  “Jesus Christ Booker!  Don’t you care that people are watching you doing those things to me?”

Coldness gripped at Dennis’ heart and his expression immediately hardened.  “ _Doing_ those things to you?” he echoed through clenched teeth.  “You make it sound like I had a choice.”

Sitting down on Doug’s bed, Tom buried his head in his hands.  “That’s not what I meant,” he muttered softly.

Scrambling to his feet, Dennis stared down angrily at his lover.  “Really?  ‘Cause I’m thinking it was a Freudian slip and that’s _exactly_ what you fucking meant,” he replied furiously.  “Well you know what Tom?  I’m starting to get a little tired of your hot and cold feelings towards me.  If you haven’t worked out by now how much I love you then I don’t know what else I can do.  Maybe this relationship really _was_ doomed from the start and we should just cut our losses and go our separate ways.”

Without lifting his head, Tom gave his reply in a dull voice.  “Maybe we should.”

Too hurt and angry to care that his and Tom’s relationship was slowly unraveling before his very eyes, Dennis walked over to the top of the stairs.  Turning back around, he stared at Hanson’s bowed head.  “Take care Tom,” he muttered.  “I hope one day you find peace.”

When he was half way down the steps, he heard Tom’s frantic voice calling him but he refused to turn back.  Tears stung at his eyes and quickening his pace, he reached the lower level and grabbing his bag, he hurried from the apartment.  



	44. In Search of Closure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Tom’s eyes slowly opened and turning his head, he focused on Booker. He showed no signs of happiness when he saw his friend gazing down at him, instead, he ran his fingers through his tousled hair and let out a heavy sigh. “What are you doing here?”_
> 
> _A stab of pain pierced Dennis’ heart at the tone of Tom’s voice but he remained calm. “Don’t play games Tommy,” he replied softly. “Doug told you I was coming.”_
> 
> _Sitting up, Tom pulled his bent legs up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees. “Yeah he did,” he muttered flatly. “But that doesn’t answer my question. What are you doing here?”_
> 
> _Dennis could feel his frustration building and tiredness from the trip made him snap. “Oh for fuck’s sake Tom!” he cried out. “I know about the tape and Doug told me how badly you reacted to the news. You stopped taking my phone calls so what was I supposed to do, stay in Nevada and wait until you decided you wanted to talk to me again? We’re a couple, or at least I thought we were. Why are you shutting me out?”_
> 
> _Wrapping his arms tightly around his legs, Tom avoided Dennis’ gaze by resting his forehead on his knees. Minutes ticked by before he lifted his head and stared impassively back at Booker. “That tape changes everything,” he mumbled despondently._
> 
> _“Why?” Dennis exclaimed in frustration. “We knew about the tape, why does it matter now?”_
> 
> _“BECAUSE PEOPLE ARE WATCHING US!” Tom screamed hysterically and clambering to his feet, he began to pace agitatedly around the room. “Jesus Christ Booker! Don’t you care that people are watching you doing those things to me?”_
> 
> _Coldness gripped at Dennis’ heart and his expression immediately hardened. “Doing those things to you?” he echoed through clenched teeth. “You make it sound like I had a choice.”_
> 
> _Sitting down on Doug’s bed, Tom buried his head in his hands. “That’s not what I meant,” he muttered softly._
> 
> _Scrambling to his feet, Dennis stared down angrily at his lover. “Really? ‘Cause I’m thinking it was a Freudian slip and that’s exactly what you fucking meant,” he replied furiously. “Well you know what Tom? I’m starting to get a little tired of your hot and cold feelings towards me. If you haven’t worked out by now how much I love you then I don’t know what else I can do. Maybe this relationship really was doomed from the start and we should just cut our losses and go our separate ways.”_
> 
> _Without lifting his head, Tom gave his reply in a dull voice. “Maybe we should.”_
> 
> _Too hurt and angry to care that his and Tom’s relationship was slowly unraveling before his very eyes, Dennis walked over to the top of the stairs. Turning back around, he stared at Hanson’s bowed head. “Take care Tom,” he muttered. “I hope one day you find peace.”_
> 
> _When he was half way down the steps, he heard Tom’s frantic voice calling him but he refused to turn back. Tears stung at his eyes and quickening his pace, he reached the lower level and grabbing his bag, he hurried from the apartment._

**In Search of Closure**

_Six months later – Sacramento, California_

Arriving home after a twelve-hour shift at the prison where he had been working for the past four months, Dennis unlocked the front door of the house he rented and walking inside, he tossed his keys onto the coffee table and headed directly towards the bathroom. It had not been an easy day, he was tired, sweaty and he sported a fresh black eye from a wayward fist that had smacked him in the face when he stepped in to break up a fight that had resulted in one inmate receiving a fatal stab wound to the chest. Working at the maximum security facility was far more demanding than his previous position in Nevada but he continued to enjoy the job and deep down, he hoped that he was still making a difference in the lives of the men he watched over. 

Bending over, he unlaced his boots and kicked them across the floor. He longed to take a hot shower to wash away the day’s events, before settling back with a beer, day old Chinese food and watching the Lakers annihilate the Celtics. Even though he now lived in Sacramento, his loyalty remained with his beloved Lakers, a team he had followed since he was a young boy. It was a good way to start his week-long vacation, he knew it would be an exciting game and he was looking forward to relaxing after such a stressful day. 

Peering into the mirror, he studied the reddish bruise beneath his right eye. It was a hazard of the job but even after being on the force and working the last eighteen months as a correctional officer, he still found it increasingly difficult not to lose control when someone punched or attacked him. His automatic reaction was always to fight back but he had vowed only to use excessive force when absolutely necessary and most of the inmates respected him for that. In addition, his physique was somewhat intimidating and most of the prisoners knew better than to push him to breaking point. He was fit, he was strong and he was fast, a triple combination that mostly gave him the upper hand in a physical fight. His strength and agility had stood him in good stead over the years; however, they did not prevent him from receiving the occasional injury and today had been one of those days. His ribs ached and the bruising around his injured eye was becoming more prominent. However, they were minor injuries in comparison to the prisoner who now lay in the morgue and Dennis knew he had gotten off lightly. It could just as easily have been him lying on a cold slab, waiting for his parents to claim his body and it was a reminder of just how dangerous his job could be. 

Pushing away the unsettling image, he started to unbutton his shirt, but he stopped when he heard the chime of his doorbell. For the briefest of moments, he considered ignoring it but on the off chance that it was something important he decided to answer it and with a loud sigh, he turned and padded back out into the living area. 

Reaching the front door, he yanked it open and stared at the bowed head of a slim man standing on his porch. The man wore a baseball cap and in his hand he carried a brown paper parcel. Thinking that the young man was at the wrong house, he gave a small, polite smile. “Can I help you?”

The man lifted his head and Dennis gasped in shock when the beautiful face that haunted his dreams gazed back at him. When Tom gave his trademark half grin, he immediately felt his stomach flip-flop with desire and he marveled at the fact that even after so long apart, Hanson still had that effect on him. But as he gazed at the man that had made such a dramatic impact on his life, he immediately pushed the feelings of longing aside. He had built a new life for himself and this time he would not let Tom disrupt it, this time he would not allow the feelings in his heart to overrule his head. This time, he would be strong. “Tom,” he muttered in a quiet voice. “What are you doing here?”

They were echoed words from the past and the significance was not lost on Tom. A sad smile played over his full lips and he gazed deep into Dennis’ eyes. “I asked you that same question the last time I saw you,” he murmured softly. “And it signaled the end of our relationship. Do you think it’s an omen?”

Dennis’ lips set in a hard line as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. “I don’t know,” he replied stiffly. “Maybe.”

Tom lowered his gaze for a moment before lifting his head and giving Booker a wistful look. “This isn’t exactly the welcome I was hoping for,” he muttered quietly. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Pulling himself together, Dennis stepped aside and motioned for Tom to enter. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Come in.”

Stepping over the threshold, Hanson gazed around the large entrance hall before following Booker into the tastefully decorated living room. It was very different from the small apartment in Nevada and his heart swelled with pride; Dennis was obviously doing very well for himself. “Wow,” he smiled. “Nice place.”

Taking a seat in his favorite easy chair, Dennis motioned for Tom to sit on the couch. The shock of seeing his ex lover after so long was slowly starting to wear off and in its place was a mixture of anger and resentment. It had taken him months to get over Tom and move on with his life and now the man with whom he had shared so much pain and heartache was sitting in his living room acting as if none of the dramas of the last two years had ever happened. 

Sitting forward in his chair, he clenched his fists into tight balls as he struggled to keep his voice calm. “So, how’ve you been?” he inquired in a tone tinged with bitterness. “You’re looking well.”

A pink hue tinged Tom’s cheeks and he squirmed uncomfortably. “Yeah, I suppose I do,” he replied quietly. “I guess I was a bit of a mess the last time you saw me.” He paused for a moment as he studied Dennis’ black eye. “What happened to your face?” he asked gently.

Unable to contain his emotions any longer, Booker jumped from his chair. “Jesus Christ Tom, this is bullshit!” he yelled in frustration. “I can’t sit here and exchange polite small talk with you when it’s been six fucking months since I’ve seen you! Things have changed... _I’ve_ changed! Why the hell do you keep coming back and disrupting my life!”

Tom stared back in stunned silence. It had never occurred to him that he might cause Dennis pain by reinserting himself back into his life. The last six months had been tough for him; when Dennis had left, he had needed to learn how to take care of himself without the love and support of his friend. Doctor Farmer had been instrumental in helping him adjust and he had spent six weeks in a psychiatric facility so that he could receive extensive treatment to help him overcome his anxiety. When he finished his treatment, he had moved out of Penhall’s home and into a tiny studio apartment and even though his disability pension barely covered the rent, food and utilities, he could honestly say that he was happy for the first time in months. His therapy with Doctor Farmer continued and it was during one of his sessions that the psychologist had suggested _exposure therapy_. He had sat quietly whilst the doctor explained how the therapy worked and even though he felt his anxiety levels rise once he knew what it entailed, he had agreed.

The first session had been terrifying; through the help of the resident psychologist, he and Doctor Farmer visited the prison where he had spent a year of his life incarcerated. Even though they had only entered the administration part of the facility, it had been enough to trigger a full-blown panic attack and it had taken him days to recover fully. 

Unperturbed, Farmer had persisted with the treatment and they visited the penitentiary a further eight times until Tom was finally able to enter the building without suffering any anxiety. Pleased with the results, the psychologist put forward stage two and three of his therapy and it was then that Tom knew that to complete them successfully, he needed to do them with Booker.

Now, sitting in Dennis’ house staring up at his ex lover’s angry face, he suddenly realized the selfishness of his motives. He had become so consumed with his own recovery that he had not given any thought to how it would affect his friend. However, he now realized that he had made a mistake. Booker was not the one who needed closure, he was and it was unfair to ask him to relive the horror of their imprisonment when it was perfectly obvious that he had moved on with his life. 

Standing up, his mouth twitched into a remorseful smile. “I’m sorry Dennis,” he apologized quietly. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

Seeing the sadness on Tom’s face, Dennis felt his anger slowly slip away. Exhaling heavily, he spoke in a calm voice. “Why _did_ you come here Tommy?”

Hanson grasped the brown paper parcel to his chest and lowered his gaze to the floor. “Doctor Farmer suggested it,” he replied slowly. “I’ve been having exposure therapy to help me with my anxiety and he… well, he suggested a couple of things that I needed to do and I guess I thought we could do them together.”

Hearing Tom speak about his therapy immediately made Dennis feel guilty. If Tom needed his help, the least he could do was listen to what he had to say. Motioning his hand towards the couch, he sat back down and leaning his elbows on his knees, he rested his chin in his hands. “How did you find me?” he asked. “Did Penhall do a background check on me?”

Another blush stained Tom’s cheeks. “Yeah,” he admitted guiltily. “But don’t blame Doug, I asked him to.”

Dennis shrugged his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter,” he replied softly. “When I was a cop I probably would have done the same thing.”

Tom nodded his head and smiling awkwardly, he steeled himself for what he knew was to be the next question.

“So,” Dennis continued in a quiet voice. “What is it you want me to help you with?”

Shaking his head, Hanson immediately covered the parcel in his lap with his hands. “Don’t worry about it,” he muttered. “It was a bad idea.”

A deep frown creased Dennis’ brow and he gave Tom a hard stare. “You traveled over six hours to see me Tommy,” he commented. “Which makes me think it must be _something_ important.”

Tom felt backed into a corner. He did not want to lie to Dennis about his intentions but now that he was about to reveal his reason for coming to Sacramento, he felt nervous and unsure. When Dennis had left Doug’s apartment on that fateful day, he had known that their relationship was over and that was why he had not tried to make contact. It had been his gift to Booker, to give him a fresh start away from the emotional turmoil of his damaged life. However, when he had successfully completed the first part of his exposure therapy, he had become so engrossed in his recovery that he forgot his promise to let Dennis live his life and now, he was once again about to ask his friend to relive their past.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up the small rectangular package and held it in his hand. “I want to ask you to do something with me,” he confessed in a soft voice. “And if you want to say no, that’s okay because—”

“Tom!” Dennis interrupted impatiently. “Just tell me!”

Leaning forward, Tom held out the package with a trembling hand. “This is a copy of the video Bentley made of us. I want you to watch it with me.”

The walls of the room closed in on Dennis and his vision blurred. The horrors of his past had returned.


	45. A Rush of Blood to the Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: “So,” Dennis continued in a quiet voice.  “What is it you want me to help you with?”_
> 
> _Shaking his head, Hanson immediately covered the parcel in his lap with his hands.  “Don’t worry about it,” he muttered.  “It was a bad idea.”_
> 
> _A deep frown creased Dennis’ brow and he gave Tom a hard stare.  “You traveled over six hours to see me Tommy,” he commented.  “Which makes me think it must be something important.”_
> 
> _Tom felt backed into a corner.  He did not want to lie to Dennis about his intentions but now that he was about to reveal his reason for coming to Sacramento, he felt nervous and unsure.  When Dennis had left Doug’s apartment on that fateful day, he had known that their relationship was over and that was why he had not tried to make contact.  It had been his gift to Booker, to give him a fresh start away from the emotional turmoil of his damaged life.  However, when he had successfully completed the first part of his exposure therapy, he had become so engrossed in his recovery that he forgot his promise to let Dennis live his life and now, he was once again about to ask his friend to relive their past._
> 
> _Taking a deep breath, he picked up the small rectangular package and held it in his hand.  “I want to ask you to do something with me,” he confessed in a soft voice.  “And if you want to say no, that’s okay because—”_
> 
> _“Tom!” Dennis interrupted impatiently.  “Just tell me!”_
> 
> _Leaning forward, Tom held out the package with a trembling hand.  “This is a copy of the video Bentley made of us.  I want you to watch it with me.”_
> 
> _The walls of the room closed in on Dennis and his vision blurred.  The horrors of his past had returned._

**A Rush of Blood to the Head**

A heavy silence hung in the air as Dennis stared back at Tom in disbelief.  The video tape had always been the elephant in the room, the topic that had caused Tom the most heartache and yet here he was, holding the images of his shame in his hand and asking him to watch the shocking event in the comfort of his own living room.  Beads of sweat glistened on Booker’s forehead and he ran a shaky hand across his brow.  He was speechless, too shocked by the current events to utter any sound.  Instead, he continued to fix his stare on Tom’s flushed face as a thousand thoughts whirled madly around in his mind.

Unable to witness the shock on Booker’s face any longer,  Tom lowered his gaze and standing up, he hugged the offending video to his chest.  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.  “It was a stupid idea.  Of course you don’t want to watch it when all it’s going to do is bring back bad memories for you.  You’ve moved on, I get it now.  I won’t contact you again.”

As he walked from the room towards the front door, he heard Dennis mutter a barely audible command.  “Wait.”

Turning back around, he lifted his gaze and stood waiting expectantly for Booker to speak.  A minute passed, then two and just as he was about to turn and walk away for a second time, he heard Dennis’ voice.  “I can’t do this now, I need time to think.”

Walking further into the room, Tom stood in front of Dennis’ chair.  “I don’t want to pressure you,” he murmured in a soft voice.  “Take as much time as you need to make your decision.”  Reaching into his pocket, he handed his friend a piece of paper on which he had scrawled the name and number of the YMCA where he was staying.  “Call me when you know what you want to do.”

Nodding his head, Booker took the piece of paper and laid it on the coffee table.  Gazing up into Tom’s face, he let out a sigh.  “Does the doctor really think this will help you?” he asked.

Shoving his free hand deep into the pocket of his jeans, Tom shrugged his shoulders.  “He thinks I need to see the tape rather than keep imagining what’s on it,” he replied.  “He thinks what I’m imagining is worse than how it really was.”

Dennis raised his eyebrows in surprise.  “Do you think he’s right?” he queried, curious to know what Tom’s answer would be.

“I don’t know,” Tom whispered truthfully.  “I’m scared because I have no idea _what_ it’s going to look like.  I’ve learned to accept that it happened and I’ve learned to accept that people have watched it but I’m still terrified that it will ruin the feelings I have for you.  If I see fear on my face, _that_ is what I will always remember and everything else that we’ve done together sexually, all the times when we found love and comfort in each other’s arms will forever be tainted by the one act that neither of us had any control over.”

Hanson’s words moved Dennis to tears but he quickly blinked them away.  He needed time alone to think about what Tom was asking him to do.  Once viewed, the images on the tape would forever remain within his memory and he wanted his decision to be the right one.  Standing up, he managed a small smile.  “Give me a day to think about it,” he requested.  “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Tom nodded his head.  “Thanks,” he replied with a half smile.  “Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.”

It was not until after Hanson had left that Dennis wondered what his final statement meant.

**

_26 hours later_

Standing on the porch of Dennis’ house, Tom closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath before ringing the doorbell.  He had received Booker’s phone call two hours before, asking him to come over so that they could discuss the tape.  It was an ambiguous request and he did not know if Dennis had decided to watch the video or if he just wanted to talk about it.  The uncertainty of Booker’s request made knowing how to proceed difficult.  He was unsure whether to bring the tape to the house or not and he spent an hour fretting over what to do.  However, in the end he decided that there would be no harm in bringing the tape and if Dennis did not want to watch it, he would then decide whether to watch it on his own or abandon the idea completely.

Hearing footsteps from inside the house, he gripped the tape firmly in his hand and tried to calm his nerves.  When the door opened, he tried to gauge Booker’s demeanor but all he could ascertain from his friend’s expression was that he looked as nervous as he himself felt.  Managing a small smile, he followed Dennis into the living room and sitting down, he placed the tape next to him on the couch.  

An uncomfortable silence followed before Dennis leaned back in his easy chair and gave his ex lover a genuine smile.  “It’s good to see you again,” he commented.  “I’m sorry that I was so aloof yesterday.  You turning up here was a bit of a shock.”

Tom immediately relaxed and returned the smile.  “I guess I should have called first,” he apologized.  “But I was terrified you’d hang up on me.  I figured it would be harder to ignore me if I was standing on your doorstep.”

Booker laughed.  “Typical,” he joked.  “You always could be a stubborn bastard.”

Hanson’s brown eyes filled with emotion.  “Maybe the old me is finally breaking through,” he murmured quietly.  “Maybe I’m finally starting to put the past two years behind me.”

Getting out of his chair, Dennis moved forward and perched on the couch next to Tom.  The video tape wrapped in brown paper lay on the cushion between them and he glanced at it for a moment before reaching out and laying a hand on Tom’s knee.  “I hope so Tommy,” he stated quietly.  “And if you think watching this video will help you even more, then I’m willing to do it.”

Tom’s expression turned to one of surprise.  “Really?” he asked in disbelief.  “Jesus Dennis, I don’t know how to thank—”

“Don’t thank me,” Booker interrupted quickly.  “It wasn’t an easy decision and you need to know that I’m not only doing this for you Tom, I’m doing it for me too.  I realized last night after you’d left that I’m still carrying around emotional baggage that I thought I’d let go.  But I haven’t, all I’ve done is bury it deep inside me and I think I need to do this so that _I_ can truly put the last few years behind me too.  I need to move on.  I need to live my life here in Sacramento free of the past.”

“Oh,” Tom replied and he gave his friend an injured look.  “I see.”

Dennis gave Tom’s leg a gentle squeeze.  “I’m sorry if you thought that we might get back together,” he stated quietly.  “But Tommy, I really don’t think that’s going to happen.  You’ll always have a special place in my heart but I don’t think our relationship is healthy.”

Shifting further across the couch so that he dislodged Booker’s hand, Tom turned and gave him a hard stare.  “I didn’t come here to try and coerce you into getting back together with me,” he replied stiffly.  “I came here because I thought you were my friend and as a friend, you’d want to help me.”

Exhaling heavily, Booker slouched back against the couch and ran his fingers through his hair.  “I _am_ trying to help you,” he retorted in a tone filled with frustration.  “I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“There _is_ no wrong idea,” Tom sighed.  “I can’t help the way I feel Dennis; I love you and I won’t pretend that I don’t.  I just wanted you to know that and what you decide to do with that information is up to you.  I know I can’t make you love me and I swear to you on my father’s grave that the only reason I came here is because Doctor Farmer suggested it; there was never any ulterior motive.  Never.  I’m here because I need to learn to put behind me everything that Bentley did to us.  I’m here because like you, I need closure.”

The words _I love you_ caused Dennis’ heart to flutter and his hands began to tremble with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.  Suddenly he did not feel so confident in his decision to keep Tom out of his life and all of the feelings he had ever had for the man sitting next to him came rushing to the surface in a flood of pure emotion.  Looking down at the brown paper package lying between them, he thought back to their time in the warehouse together and he knew that he would never find another man who knew him as intimately as what Tom did.  They had been through hell together but against the odds, they had survived.  It had not been easy and neither of them would ever be the same as they had been two years ago but through it, they had gained an unbreakable friendship and it was only now as he sat staring at the video that he realized that it was foolish to keep Tom at a distance.  Tom was a part of his soul, he had helped to sculpture the new Dennis Booker out of the fragments of the old and his friendship was more valuable to him than anything else in his life.  Without Tom, he was not complete; he was just a mere shadow of his true self.  Tom brought out the very best and the very worst in him and that was what made him whole.  That was what made him Dennis Booker.

Reaching out, he picked up the video and turned it over in his hands.  Without speaking, he tore off the wrapping and after screwing it into a ball, he threw it onto the coffee table.  Standing up on shaky legs, he walked over to the VCR.  He switched on the television then hesitated for a moment before pushing the tape into the slot and picking up the remote control.  When he turned back around, he gave Tom a serious look.  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked in a trembling voice.  “Because once we see it, there’s no going back.”

Swallowing deeply, Tom nodded his head.  “I _have_ to see it,” he whispered as his eyes misted over.  “If I don’t, I think my imagination will slowly drive me mad.”

Keeping a measurable distance from Tom, Dennis sat back down on the couch.  “Ready?” he asked in a tense voice.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Tom muttered and Dennis noticed that his fists had clenched into such tight balls that his knuckles shone white through his skin.  “Turn it on.”

Booker pressed the play button on the remote and held his breath in anticipation for what was to come.  He was shocked when a single word flashed onto the screen and he cringed in embarrassment when he saw that the title of the movie was _**COPulation**_.  Seconds passed before the title slowly faded and Tom’s terrified face came into view.  He heard Tom’s sharp intake of breath beside him and instinctively, he reached out his hand and laid it on top of his friend’s clenched fist.  The camera panned back and it was Booker’s turn to gasp when he saw himself kneeling at the end of the bed, his arousal obvious by his large erection.  Shame burned at his cheeks and he quickly snatched his hand away but seconds later, he felt Tom’s fingers entwining in his own.  His breathing became shallow as he watched himself bend up Tom’s knees and begin to touch him intimately.  Watching the scene unfold, he immediately became aroused and his cock strained against the tightness of his jeans.  He could hear Tom’s heavy breathing beside him as they both stared at the TV screen and firm fingers squeezed his own as their coupling began.  

“Oh Jesus,” Tom whispered.

Hearing Tom’s voice, Dennis turned his head and he was surprised to see that his friend’s face was as flushed as his own and that his eyes were as wide as saucers.  “Tommy, are you okay?” he asked quietly.

Tom could not take his eyes off the screen as he watched Booker gently making love to him.  Tears blurred his vision and he choked back a sob.  It was not the horror story he had expected to see.  Dennis was so tender and loving and they both appeared to be completely oblivious to anyone else being in the room.  Irrespective of the fact that his wrists were trussed to the bed, to anyone watching, it was a beautiful visual display of two men coming together as one.  It was not fucking, it was not even pornographic; it was passionate and yet sensual, erotic yet pure.  As Tom continued to watch, he was amazed to see that their eyes remained locked right up until the moment when Dennis had murmured the words _“Come for me baby,”_ and he had climaxed hard and fast from the double stimulation.  His eyes remained fixed on the television screen as he watched Booker’s face contort with pleasure as he reached his orgasm and moments later, the screen went blank.

The sound of heavy breathing filled the room and turning his head, Tom gazed at Booker’s flushed face.  His own erection ached to be touched and casting a look down at Dennis’ lap, he could see a large bulge straining at the denim of his jeans.  As he turned to look away, Dennis’ eyes caught his and they gazed at each other silently for several moments.  Suddenly realizing that he was still grasping Dennis’ hand, he started to pull away but strong fingers held him firm as dark eyes bore into his soul.  

“Dennis,” he murmured but his words were stifled as soft lips pressed against his own.  He moaned in pleasure at the contact, his tongue expertly parting the full lips to gain access to Dennis’ hot mouth.  They kissed passionately, their tongues dancing together like long lost lovers.  Needing more, he pushed Booker back against the cushions and lying on top of him, he ground his erection against the hard mound beneath him.  

Dennis groaned loudly and grasping hold of Tom’s buttocks, he increased the friction between them as their tongues clashed fervently.  Their actions were clumsy, almost adolescent in their need to find release but it had the desired effect and moments later, Tom cried out against Dennis’ mouth as his orgasm hit.  Seconds later, Dennis’ hips rocked forward and he pulled Tom against him as he ejaculated into his boxers.  

Once again, heavy breathing rent the room and lifting his head, Tom grinned awkwardly.  “Shit,” he murmured.  “That hasn’t happened since…”

A feeling of déjà vu washed over both men as they remembered the last time it _had_ happened.  It had been the day of their bail hearing and they had found comfort in each other’s arms.  It had been their first contact since Bentley had forced them to make the video and they had joked about feeling like teenagers.  Immediately another memory from that day popped into Tom’s mind and he quietly echoed the exact same words.  “Fuck, what the hell does this mean?”

Gently pushing Tom away from him, Booker sat up and ran a trembling hand through his hair.  “I don’t know,” he answered honestly.  “Jesus Tommy, I really don’t know.”

Climbing from the couch, Tom pulled off his jacket and tied it around his waist, effectively hiding the stain on the front of his jeans.  “I think I should go,” he stated quietly.

Standing up, Dennis took hold of Tom’s hand.  “But you’re not leaving Sacramento?” he asked in a worried voice.  “I really think we need to sit down and talk.”

A small smile played over Tom’s lips.  “No, I’m not leaving Sacramento, at least not yet.  How about lunch tomorrow, say midday?”

Booker sighed with relief.  “It’s a date,” he murmured softly.  “I’ll pick you up.”

Walking over to the VCR, Tom ejected the tape and held it in his hand.  Neither man spoke about what the tape meant to them nor did Dennis ask what Tom was going to do with it.  There was so much to say but now was not the time to say it.

“Okay,” Tom muttered.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” Dennis replied quietly.  When he heard the front door open and close, he remained standing silently for another few minutes before walking up stairs to his bedroom.  He spent the rest of the night staring sightlessly up at the ceiling as thoughts of Tom swirled through his confused mind.


	46. Rivers Always Reach the Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: “Dennis,” he murmured but his words were stifled as soft lips pressed against his own. He moaned in pleasure at the contact, his tongue expertly parting the full lips to gain access to Dennis’ hot mouth. They kissed passionately, their tongues dancing together like long lost lovers. Needing more, he pushed Booker back against the cushions and lying on top of him, he ground his erection against the hard mound beneath him._
> 
> _Dennis groaned loudly and grasping hold of Tom’s buttocks, he increased the friction between them as their tongues clashed fervently. Their actions were clumsy, almost adolescent in their need to find release but it had the desired effect and moments later, Tom cried out against Dennis’ mouth as his orgasm hit. Seconds later, Dennis’ hips rocked forward and he pulled Tom against him as he ejaculated into his boxers._
> 
> _Once again, heavy breathing rent the room and lifting his head, Tom grinned awkwardly. “Shit,” he murmured. “That hasn’t happened since…”_
> 
> _A feeling of déjà vu washed over both men as they remembered the last time it had happened. It had been the day of their bail hearing and they had found comfort in each other’s arms. It had been their first contact since Bentley had forced them to make the video and they had joked about feeling like teenagers. Immediately another memory from that day popped into Tom’s mind and he quietly echoed the exact same words. “Fuck, what the hell does this mean?”_
> 
> _Gently pushing Tom away from him, Booker sat up and ran a trembling hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “Jesus Tommy, I really don’t know.”_
> 
> _Climbing from the couch, Tom pulled off his jacket and tied it around his waist, effectively hiding the stain on the front of his jeans. “I think I should go,” he stated quietly._
> 
> _Standing up, Dennis took hold of Tom’s hand. “But you’re not leaving Sacramento?” he asked in a worried voice. “I really think we need to sit down and talk.”_
> 
> _A small smile played over Tom’s lips. “No, I’m not leaving Sacramento, at least not yet. How about lunch tomorrow, say midday?”_
> 
> _Booker sighed with relief. “It’s a date,” he murmured softly. “I’ll pick you up.”_
> 
> _Walking over to the VCR, Tom ejected the tape and held it in his hand. Neither man spoke about what the tape meant to them nor did Dennis ask what Tom was going to do with it. There was so much to say but now was not the time to say it._
> 
> _“Okay,” Tom muttered. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”_
> 
> _“See you tomorrow,” Dennis replied quietly. When he heard the front door open and close, he remained standing silently for another few minutes before walking up stairs to his bedroom. He spent the rest of the night staring sightlessly up at the ceiling as thoughts of Tom swirled through his confused mind._

**Rivers Always Reach the Sea**  

Pulling his Cadillac up to the curb, Dennis’ heart fluttered when he caught sight of Tom walking out of the hostel.  He was certain that none of his past lovers had ever evoked such a level of excitement within him and for the hundredth time since Tom came to town, he marveled at the electricity that sparked between them.  Just looking at Tom made him horny and he knew that he needed to maintain his focus and keep a level head.  It was just lunch, nothing more, except of course there was the memory of the previous night and their sexual encounter hanging uncomfortably between them.  He knew they needed to discuss what it meant and more importantly, they needed to come to a decision about their future.  Until they did, neither of them would be able to move forward.

The passenger door opened and Tom climbed into the car.  “Hey,” he greeted in a bright voice.

Pushing all thoughts of sex from his mind, Booker smiled.  “Hey,” he echoed.  “How’d you sleep?”

Tom’s cheeks flushed pink and he averted his gaze.  “Not that well,” he admitted quietly.  “I couldn’t stop thinking about… well, you know.”

“Yeah,” Dennis sighed.  “I know.”

An awkward silence hung in the air until Dennis took the initiative.  “Hungry?” he asked.

Shaking his head, Tom gave a crooked smile.  “But I could use a drink,” he suggested.

“Drinks it is,” Dennis replied and checking his mirrors, he pulled out into the traffic.  

They drove in silence for several minutes before Tom spoke.  “So, how’s the new job?” he asked in a voice that sounded slightly on edge.

The note of uneasiness in Tom’s voice was not lost on Booker and he hesitated for a moment before answering.  “Challenging,” he replied.  “The day you arrived on my doorstep a prisoner died from a stab wound.”

Another long silence stretched out before Tom spoke again.  “Is that how you got the black eye?” he asked quietly.

Lifting his hand off the steering wheel, Booker touched his bruised face self-consciously.  “Yeah,” he murmured.  “But I guess I got off lightly, all things considered.”

Tom’s mouth set in a hard line.  The thought of Dennis scuffling with a prisoner armed with a shank frightened him and memories of their time in jail quickly flooded into his mind.  Clenching his hands into fists, his breathing became rapid as he felt his panic rising.  Closing his eyes, he concentrated on calming his breathing as he employed the guided imagery technique.  Slowly the frightening pictures in his mind disappeared and he felt the tightness in his chest alleviate.  He had come a long way with his therapy and he was now able to use the practice much more effectively to control his panic attacks.  It was not a miracle cure and he had come to accept that it was something he would probably have to deal with for the rest of his life.  Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was the medical term Doctor Farmer had used but Tom preferred to think of it as a _mind echo_ and even during a rare, full-blown attack, he knew that eventually, the reverberating images would fade and he would once again gain control of his body and emotions.  He had learned to ride out the bad attacks and control the small ones and even if he never fully recovered, he no longer felt ashamed over what he knew was not his fault.  It was a symptom of his abuse, nothing more and if people could not accept him for who he was, then he no longer cared.

When the car stopped outside their destination, he opened his eyes and turned his gaze towards Booker.  He frowned slightly when he saw his friend’s sympathetic expression and he immediately felt annoyed.  He no longer wanted sympathy, what he wanted was acceptance and understanding.   Unbuckling his seat belt, he started to open the door when he felt a strong hand grip his arm.  Turning back around, he glared at Booker.  “What?” he growled.

Surprised by Tom’s anger, Dennis let go of his arm.  “Hey,” he soothed.  “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

Tom let out a loud sigh and closed the door.  “Sorry,” he apologized.  “It’s just… I saw the look of pity on your face and it pissed me off.”

“Oh,” Dennis replied.  “Well, I didn’t mean anything by it.  I guess I’d just thought you’d stopped having panic attacks, especially after so much therapy.”

“Well I haven’t,” Tom snapped.  “There’s no magic cure Booker, I’ve just learned how to deal with it.  I am what I am and if you can’t accept that—”

“Whoa!” Dennis interrupted.  “Settle down Tommy.  I’m not judging you, I was just surprised, that’s all.  Let’s not start arguing over a silly misunderstanding.”

Tom felt his anger dissipate and relaxing back into his seat, he managed a small smile.  “Okay,” he replied.  “I’m sorry I got so defensive but I get so tired of being judged for something I can’t control.”

Resting his hand on Tom’s thigh, Booker gave it a squeeze.  “Then let’s forget about it and go and get a drink,” he suggested quietly.

Feeling Booker’s hand resting on his leg sent a bolt of electricity through Tom’s body and he shivered with excitement.  Nodding his head, he quickly climbed out of the car so that Dennis could not see his flushed face.  It still amazed him that Booker’s touch had that much of an effect on him and he knew that it would be worth the fight to keep him in his life.

Walking into the near empty bar, they each bought a pint of beer and sat down in the far corner of the room.  After clinking glasses, Tom took a large swallow of the cool amber liquid before setting his glass down.  Taking a deep breath, he decided to launch straight into what was on his mind.  “I want to talk about what happened last night.”

Taken aback by Hanson’s direct approach, Booker spluttered into his beer.  “Um, okay,” he replied uncertainly.  “What exactly do you—”

“You came onto me,” Tom interjected.  “I want to know if that means you still have feelings for me or if you just needed to get off.”

Again, Tom’s bluntness surprised Booker and he ran his fingers nervously through his hair.  He _did_ still have feelings for Tom but he was not sure that admitting to it would be the best approach.  What he feared most was hurting Tom when he had come so far with his treatment.  Their relationship was so volatile and there were so many haunting memories that they both shared and he was afraid that rather than helping Tom, being with him might actually make things worse.

However, that morning whilst he was eating breakfast, he had made the decision that at the very least, he owed it to Tom to be honest and taking another swig of beer, he let out a sigh.  “I do still have feelings for you Tommy,” he confessed.  “But I’m not sure if I want to be in a relationship with you.”

Hanson gave Dennis a penetrating stare from across the table.  “Is that because of my panic attacks?” he asked directly.  “Do you think being with me is too much hassle?”

Biting down on his lower lip, Booker shook his head.  “No,” he replied quietly.  “It’s because I’m terrified of being the reason you have a relapse.  I’m terrified _I’ll_ be the one to trigger a bad memory, like in the car a few minutes ago.  Jesus Tommy, I’d never be able to live with myself knowing that I was the one to cause you pain.”

Resting his chin in his hands, Tom’s expression softened.  “You caused me pain when you left but I dealt with it,” he answered in a quiet voice.  “I don’t want you to treat me like someone with a mental illness Dennis, I want you to treat me the same way you treat everyone else and sometimes, you’re going to upset me.  But it’s not the end of the world, that’s what happens in relationships… in _all_ relationships.”

A small smile played over Dennis’ lips.  “That sounds like something a psychologist might say,” he prompted.

“Well yeah,” Tom admitted as he ran his finger nervously over his upper lip.  “I’ve spoken to Doctor Farmer a lot about you and me and I suppose they’re _his_ words not mine but it’s how _I_ feel.”

Surprised by Tom’s admission, Dennis stared deep into his friend’s brown eyes.  “You talked about us?” he asked softly.  “Even after I left you?”

Tom’s face flushed red and he quickly swallowed down a gulp of beer.  “I needed him to help me with my fear of intimacy,” he murmured.  “Because I always hoped that you and I would get back together and I want to give you…”  Tears suddenly filled Tom’s eyes and he swiped them away angrily.  “I wanted to be able to give myself to you completely,” he finished in a whisper.

Booker’s heart skipped a beat and it was then that he knew he had made a decision.  Tom had spent the last six months getting well so that he could return and present himself as _whole_.  Although faced with adversity, he had continued with his treatment, rather than giving in to his illness.  He had proved himself a fighter and one worth fighting for and seeing him sitting across the table, Dennis knew that they belonged together… it was their destiny.  

However, there were obstacles that needed addressing and there was no point leaving them unspoken.  Reaching across the table, he took hold of Tom’s hand and held it tightly.  “I’m willing to give it another go if you are,” he replied softly.  “But I don’t want to move from Sacramento and Doctor Farmer lives in Los Angeles.  How is this ever going to work?”

Squeezing Booker’s fingers, Tom gave a small, knowing smile.  “I’ve already thought about that,” he admitted.  “And Doctor Farmer is confident that he can find me a psychologist here in Sacramento that I’d be comfortable with.”

Dennis’ brows knitted together in a deep frown.  “I don’t know Tommy,” he replied cautiously.  “It took you so long to find a therapist you could trust, it seems stupid to give it all away just—”

It was Tom’s turn to frown.  “ _Just?_ ” he shot back angrily.  “This is you and me we’re talking about!  I’m prepared to make a sacrifice so we can be together Dennis, the least you could do is support me.”

“Shit!” Dennis exclaimed and yanking his hand free, he raked it through his hair.  “This is _exactly_ what I was talking about.  Five minutes in and we’re already arguing!  How the hell is this ever going to work?”

Folding his arms across his chest, Tom glared back sulkily.  “The problem is _Booker_ , you don’t trust me to make my own decisions.  I’m not that fragile, fucked up man you left in L.A.  I’m Tom _fucking_ Hanson and I used to be a police officer who had to make all kinds of difficult and demanding decisions.  So don’t fucking patronize me.  If I want to find another therapist, I’ll do it with or without your approval.”

Booker’s eyes widened in surprise.  Sitting before him was the Tom Hanson of old, the Tom Hanson who spoke his mind and did not allow others to tell him what to do.  Sitting before him was the man he had fallen in love with.  Sitting before him was his future.

Getting to his feet, Dennis walked around the table and sat down next to Tom.  Reaching out, he placed the palm of his hand against Hanson’s cheek.  “Wow,” he murmured as he gazed into Tom’s angry eyes.  “I guess you really have changed.”

Lowering his gaze, Tom gave an embarrassed smile.  “Sorry,” he apologized.  “I just get so tired of being treated like a child.  Please can’t you just trust my judgment?  I trust Doctor Farmer and I know that he will find someone that I’ll feel comfortable talking to.”

Despite knowing that he was probably going to make matters worse, Booker could not hold his tongue.  “But you didn’t feel comfortable with Doctor Pearce,” he reminded Tom quietly.  “And Farmer recommended _him_.”

Tom let out a sigh of annoyance and lifting his head, he stared back at Booker defiantly.  “I’ve already spoken to Doctor Farmer about that,” he huffed.  “And he’s admitted that Pearce was the wrong doctor for me.  But he knows me so much better now, he knows what I need and I trust that he’ll find me that person.  For God’s sake Dennis, stop putting obstacles in the way of our relationship.”

Placing his hand behind Tom’s neck, Dennis gently pulled him forward and kissed him tenderly.  It took several moments before Hanson responded by parting his lips and allowing Dennis’ tongue access.  The kiss was brief, but loving and pulling apart, Booker leaned his forehead against Tom’s and sighed.  “Do you really think we can do this?” he whispered.

“I do,” Tom murmured.  “Please Dennis, can’t we just give it a chance?”

Pulling away, Booker stared deep into Tom’s eyes.  “Okay,” he replied softly.  “Let’s give it another go.”

Tom grabbed hold of Dennis and hugged him close.  It was the outcome he had dreamed about but inside, he could not help but feel a twinge of guilt.  There was still one final part of his _exposure therapy_ that he needed to complete and he hoped that Dennis would be willing to come back to California with him so that they could do it together, before starting their new life in Sacramento.


	47. Love Me Tender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Getting to his feet, Dennis walked around the table and sat down next to Tom.  Reaching out, he placed the palm of his hand against Hanson’s cheek.  “Wow,” he murmured as he gazed into Tom’s angry eyes.  “I guess you really have changed.”_
> 
> _Lowering his gaze, Tom gave an embarrassed smile.  “Sorry,” he apologized.  “I just get so tired of being treated like a child.  Please can’t you just trust my judgment?  I trust Doctor Farmer and I know that he will find someone that I’ll feel comfortable talking to.”_
> 
> _Despite knowing that he was probably going to make matters worse, Booker could not hold his tongue.  “But you didn’t feel comfortable with Doctor Pearce,” he reminded Tom quietly.  “And Farmer recommended him.”_
> 
> _Tom let out a sigh of annoyance and lifting his head, he stared back at Booker defiantly.  “I’ve already spoken to Doctor Farmer about that,” he huffed.  “And he’s admitted that Pearce was the wrong doctor for me.  But he knows me so much better now, he knows what I need and I trust that he’ll find me that person.  For God’s sake Dennis, stop putting obstacles in the way of our relationship.”_
> 
> _Placing his hand behind Tom’s neck, Dennis gently pulled him forward and kissed him tenderly.  It took several moments before Hanson responded by parting his lips and allowing Dennis’ tongue access.  The kiss was brief, but loving and pulling apart, Booker leaned his forehead against Tom’s and sighed.  “Do you really think we can do this?” he whispered._
> 
> _“I do,” Tom murmured.  “Please Dennis, can’t we just give it a chance?”_
> 
> _Pulling away, Booker stared deep into Tom’s eyes.  “Okay,” he replied softly.  “Let’s give it another go.”_
> 
> _Tom grabbed hold of Dennis and hugged him close.  It was the outcome he had dreamed about but inside, he could not help but feel a twinge of guilt.  There was still one final part of his exposure therapy that he needed to complete and he hoped that Dennis would be willing to come back to California with him so that they could do it together, before starting their new life in Sacramento._

**Love Me Tender**  

Unlocking his front door, Dennis walked in and waited for Tom to follow.  Closing the door behind them, he gave his friend an awkward smile.  “How do you want to do this?” he asked.  “Do you want your own room or—”

Dropping his bag on the floor, Tom stepped forward and pressed his lips against Dennis’ full pout.  “I want to be with _you_ ,” he murmured.  “We’ve spent too much time apart already.”

Wrapping his arms around Tom’s slender waist, Dennis pulled him close and kissed him deeply.  A soft moan escaped Tom’s lips and grasping hold of Dennis’ buttocks, he gave them a playful squeeze.  

“God I want you,” Booker breathed as he sucked lovingly on Tom’s lower lip.

Pulling away slightly, Hanson gazed deep into Booker’s dark eyes.  “I want you too,” he replied in a low, seductive voice.  “Now.”

Booker let out a loud groan and grabbing Tom’s hand, he pulled him towards the bedroom.  Kicking off his boots, he started to push Tom onto the bed but his lover had other ideas.  Nuzzling against Booker’s neck, he maneuvered him backwards until his back was against the wall.  Reaching down, he popped the button of Dennis’ jeans and slowly pulled down the zipper.  Booker gasped in surprise and he moaned with pleasure when Tom released his cock and stroked it lightly.  “Yes,” he breathed into Tom’s hair.  “Oh _yes_.”

Lifting his head, Tom gazed mischievously into Dennis’ eyes.  “Do you want me to suck you?” he asked softly.

Dennis drew in his breath and stared at Tom in amazement.  It was the first time Tom had offered to give him oral sex and his eyes filled with tears.  “Oh baby,” he murmured.  “You don’t have—”

Leaning forward, Tom pressed his lips against Dennis’ open mouth.  “Shh,” he whispered as he sucked at the soft protruding flesh of Dennis’ lower lip.  “I want to… I _need_ to.”

Booker’s legs began to tremble with anticipation and placing his hands on either side of Tom’s tranquil face, he kissed him tenderly.  “I love you Tommy Hanson,” he stated in a quivering voice filled with emotion.

Tom smiled before dropping to his knees.  Gazing up through his long, dark lashes, he gave Booker a tender look.  “I love you too,” he replied  and lowering his head, he licked his lips and pressed them tenderly against Dennis’ cockhead.

The sensation was so electrifying that Dennis could not contain himself and he let out a cry of delight.  “ _Yesss!_   Oh God Tommy _YES!_ ”

A slow grin played over Tom’s lips.  It was a huge relief for him that he could finally give Dennis the pleasure he deserved.  Six months ago he would have panicked at the thought of having a man’s cock in his mouth but now, he longed to taste Dennis’ uniqueness on his tongue and feel his erection growing in his mouth.  Moaning in excitement, he sucked on the tip of Dennis’ cock as gentle fingers began to stroke his hair.  “More,” Dennis begged softly.  “I need more.”

Closing his eyes, Tom took Dennis into his mouth and ran his lips up and down the thick shaft.  “Fuck yeah,” Dennis groaned as his hips rocked forward.  “Oh baby that feels _sooo_ good.”

Remembering Dennis’ technique, Tom swallowed deeply and began to hum.  “JESUS!” Booker yelled and thrusting his hips forward, he pushed his cock further into Hanson’s mouth.  The feeling completely overwhelmed him and he began to pump his cock in and out of Tom’s hot, moist mouth.  “Oh fuck… oh fuck… oh fuck,” he moaned over and over as his fingers tangled in Hanson’s thick hair.  “Oh Tommy… oh Tommy… oh Tommy.”

Not wanting to spoil the moment by choking, Tom concentrated on controlling his gag reflex.  It had been a long time since he had given head and he wanted to do it right, he wanted to give Dennis the same pleasure that he himself had received.  As he began to relax, he felt his own erection growing and lowering his hand, he stroked himself through his denims.  As Dennis’ thrusting became more frantic, he knew that it would not be long and he prepared himself for what was to come.

“Oh Tommy,” Booker panted excitedly.  “I’m gonna come… I’m gonna _come!_ ”

Tom felt Dennis try to pull away but he kept his fingers wrapped around the base of his cock as he continued to suck.

“Tommy!” Booker warned as he continued to thrust deep into his lover’s mouth.  “I’m coming… I’m _COMING!_ ”

Warm semen shot into Tom’s throat and he swallowed deeply, savoring the taste against his tongue.  He could feel Dennis’ body shuddering violently as he continued to suck and lap until his orgasm was complete.  Withdrawing carefully, he sat back on his heels and smiled impishly up at Booker.  “Wow.”

Reaching down, Dennis helped Tom to his feet, before kissing him lovingly.  “I don’t think _wow_ covers it,” he laughed as he tried to calm his breathing.  “Jesus Tommy that was the best blowjob I’ve ever had.”

Tom grinned self-consciously.  “Yeah well, I learned from the master.”

Trailing his fingers down Tom’s torso, Dennis stopped when he reached the hard bulge in his jeans.  Squeezing gently, he tilted his head on one side.  “Well maybe _the master_ can return the favor,” he teased in a low voice as he popped the button of Tom’s jeans.

Hanson’s eyes filled with emotion and taking hold of Dennis’ hand, he gently pulled it away and stared at the floor.  “I… I want you to do something else,” he muttered awkwardly.

Surprised by Tom’s words, Booker reached out and tilted up his lover's chin so that he could look him in the eye.  “Tell me,” he encouraged gently.

Rubbing a hand over the back of his head, Tom’s cheeks flushed red.  “I want… I want you to use your finger.”

Dennis drew in his breath as he struggled to keep the surprised look off his face.  Sensing Tom’s embarrassment, he pulled him into a hug and held him close.  “Are you sure baby?” he murmured against Tom’s ear.  “Because we don’t have to rush things.”

Pressing his lips against Dennis’, Tom kissed him lovingly.  “I’m sure,” he whispered against Booker’s soft pout.  “I want to feel you inside me.”

A tingle of excitement ran down Booker’s spine and removing his clothing, he threw it in a heap on the floor.  Once he was naked, he gazed at Tom with unconcealed longing.  “Your turn,” he breathed.

Tom quickly removed his boots and clothing and Dennis moaned when he saw his large erection jutting forward.  Taking him by the hand, he led him over to the bed.  “Lie down,” he instructed in a quiet voice.

Tom’s heart hammered in his chest and lying down on the bed, he watched silently as Dennis opened his bedside drawer and rummaged around before pulling out a tube of lubrication.  Closing the drawer, he sat on the edge of the bed and gave Tom a reassuring smile.  “We’ll take is slow, okay?  We can stop at any time.”

Nodding his head, Tom chewed nervously at his lower lip as Dennis positioned himself between his bent up legs.  Leaning forward, Dennis kissed him lovingly.  “Relax,” he murmured.  “I won’t hurt you.”

Swallowing deeply, Tom managed a small smile but his eyes revealed just how anxious he really was.  He flinched slightly when he felt Dennis stroke his inner thigh and closing his eyes, he took several deep, calming breaths.  When he no longer felt Dennis’ touch, he opened his eyes and gazed into his lover’s worried face.  “Don’t stop,” he whispered.  

Dennis let out a barely audible sigh.  “I don’t know Tommy,” he muttered quietly.  “You look terrified and I don’t want to do anything you’re going to regret.”

Tom reached out and taking Dennis’ hand in his, he guided it back so that it rested on his thigh.  “I _want_ this,” he reassured his lover.  “And yes, I admit it, I’m scared.  But I trust you Dennis and I want our relationship to move forward.  One day, I want to be able to have sex with you and that’s never going to happen if we don’t do this.”

Booker’s dark eyes filled with tears and leaning over, he kissed Tom tenderly.  “Oh baby,” he murmured softly.  “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Tom blinked back his own tears and smiled.  “I’m ready.”

Sitting back up, Dennis held Tom’s gaze as he began to run his fingers lightly up and down his inner thigh.  When he felt Tom’s legs relax, he moved his finger in a circular motion over his perineum.  As he rubbed his fingertip over Tom’s hole, he heard him draw in his breath and smiling lovingly, he picked up the tube of lubrication and squirted a large dollop onto his finger.  “Okay?” he asked.

Hanson nodded his head.  He gasped when he felt the tip of a finger pressing against him and remembering Dennis’ words from the warehouse, he took a deep breath in and breathed slowly out.  As Booker’s finger entered his body, he closed his eyes and counted to ten.  When he was calm, he opened them and gazed up at his lover.  “Keep going,” he panted.

Dennis waited until Tom breathed out before pushing his finger in a little further and then carefully removing it.  “You’re doing great,” he encouraged softly.  “Just control your breathing.”

As Booker’s finger moved slowly in and out of his body, Tom’s anxiety disappeared and he began to relax.  Sensing that now was the time, Dennis moved his finger in a circular motion until he felt it push through the tight ring of muscle.  Pausing for a moment, he bent forward and brushed his lips against Tom’s.  “Ready?” he breathed.

“Yes,” Tom whispered and when Dennis’ finger started to massage his prostate, he moaned in pleasure.  “Oh God… that feels so fucking good.”

Dennis smiled as he nibbled on Tom’s earlobe.  “Do you want me to touch you?” he murmured seductively.  “Or do you want—”

“Touch me… touch me,” Tom begged as he squirmed beneath Dennis’ body.  “Oh God Dennis… Ohhh God!”

Kneeling back up, Dennis lightly ran his finger down the length of Tom’s shaft whilst continuing to massage his prostate.  “Like this?” he teased quietly.

Tom threw his head from side to side, as he arched his body off the bed.  “No, no, no,” he moaned.  “Harder… harder.”

Grinning mischievously, Dennis wrapped his fingers around Tom’s erection and began to tug.  “Like _this?_ ” he asked again.

“Yes!  Yes!  Yes!” Tom cried as his hands grasped at the bed sheet beneath him.  “Oh fuck… oh fuck… oh _FUCK!_ ”

Precum leaked from the tip of Tom’s cock and leaning forward, Dennis ran his tongue over the moist slit.  

Tom screamed in pleasure and his hips thrust off the bed.  “FUUUCK!” he yelled and reaching out, he tangled his fingers in Dennis’ dark hair.  “Suck me!  Oh God Dennis SUCK MEEE!”

When Dennis’ lips wrapped around his cock Tom lost complete control from the double stimulation and thrusting forward, he ejaculated forcefully.  Booker moaned in pleasure as Tom’s familiar taste coated his tongue.  He could feel Tom’s body shuddering beneath him and he continued to suck until he felt gentle hands guiding him forward.  Lifting his head, he carefully withdrew his finger and smiled down at his lover.  “Are you okay baby?” he asked in a soft voice.

Reaching out, Tom brushed Dennis’ hair from his eyes.  “Yeah,” he replied with a lazy smile.  “That was amazing.”

Smiling happily, Dennis rolled onto the bed and pulled Tom into his arms.  Moments later, he heard soft snoring and he sighed contentedly.  It was a good start to their relationship and he truly began to believe that everything would be all right.

**

Having showered and dressed, Tom sat in the living room waiting for Dennis to join him.  The calmness he had felt just minutes before was slowly disappearing and he chewed nervously on his thumbnail.  He felt deceitful for not having discussed his plan with Dennis before their encounter but it had all happened so fast that there had never really been an opportunity.  But now he knew he could not remain silent any longer.  He needed to ask Dennis the question and all he could hope was that his lover would give him the answer he wanted to hear.

When Booker walked into the room carrying two beers, Tom smiled anxiously and waited until he was seated before speaking.  “I need to talk to you about something.”

Seeing the worried look in Tom’s eyes, Dennis put down his beer and smiled reassuringly.  “What is it baby?” he asked.

“I want you to come to L.A. with me,” Tom muttered in a quiet voice.

Surprised by Tom’s nervousness, Dennis reached out and took his hand.  “Of course,” he replied happily.  “We need to pick up your stuff so you can move in properly.”

Lowering his gaze, Tom shook his head.  “That’s not what I mean,” he mumbled.  “I need you to come back with me because there’s something I want you to do.”

Narrowing his eyes, Booker gave Tom a quizzical look as he felt a shiver of apprehension run down his spine.  “And what would that be?” he asked in a strained voice.

Hanson remained silent for several moments before lifting his gaze and looking directly into Booker’s eyes.  “I have one final stage to complete in my _exposure therapy_ and like with the tape, I want to do it with you.”

“Okay,” Booker replied slowly.  “Tell  me what it is.”

Swallowing deeply, Tom’s mouth twitched nervously.  “I need to go back to the warehouse,” he advised in a quiet voice.  “I need to go back to where our relationship began.”

Dennis took the time to absorb Tom’s words before replying.  “Why?” 

Tom averted his gaze but Dennis immediately leaned forward and cupped his face in his hand.  “Hey,” he murmured softly.  “Tell me.”

Tom’s eyes misted over and he tried to smile but tears began to trickle down his face.  “Because I need you to forgive me,” he sobbed.  “I need you to forgive me for bringing you there and ruining your life.”

Pulling Tom into his arms, Dennis held him close.  “Oh baby,” he whispered.  “I’ve never held you responsible for what happened.  Why would you say that?”

Laying his head against Dennis’ chest, Tom took comfort from the warm embrace.  “Because it’s true,” he mumbled against the soft material of Booker’s t-shirt.  “If I’d reported the first rape things would have been different.”

Lifting Tom’s face, Booker gently kissed where his tears had fallen.  “You don’t know that,” he replied quietly.  “And anyway, it was my decision to go the warehouse without backup, not yours.”

When Tom did not answer, Dennis kissed him tenderly.  Pulling apart, he gazed deep into Tom’s troubled eyes.  “You really want to do this?” he asked him quietly.

Hanson sniffed loudly and nodded his head.  “It’s the final piece,” he muttered.  “And then I’ll be whole.”

Tears filled Dennis’ eyes and pulling Tom to his chest, he gently stroked his hair.  “If that’s what you need to feel whole baby,” he whispered.  “Then that’s what we’ll do.”


	48. The Rain Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Well, this is it, the final chapter.  Thank you for reading , it means so much to me that you have stuck with it right through to the end.  As with my previous Tom/Dennis stories, it has at times been a difficult story to write because of the subject matter.  I have spent many nights unable to write a word because I was so worried that I would trivialise the act of rape and believe me, that has never been my intention.  I hope I have done this story justice and that you are happy with the end result.**
> 
> **Please feel free to leave me feedback; positive or negative it does not matter.  I will learn from your words.**
> 
> **Finally, an explanation about the title of the final chapter. _"The Rain Song"_ is a Led Zeppelin song and I have included the words for you.  To me, it describes beautifully the emotions that Tom and Dennis experienced and if you are unfamiliar with the song, I urge you to listen to it.  It is possibly one of the most touching songs you will ever hear.**
> 
> **Thanks again for reading, without you there would be no point in me telling my tales.**
> 
> **Hugs**   
>  **OpenPage x**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: “I want you to come to L.A. with me,” Tom muttered in a quiet voice._
> 
> _Surprised by Tom’s nervousness, Dennis reached out and took his hand.  “Of course,” he replied happily.  “We need to pick up your stuff so you can move in properly.”_
> 
> _Lowering his gaze, Tom shook his head.  “That’s not what I mean,” he mumbled.  “I need you to come back with me because there’s something I want you to do.”_
> 
> _Narrowing his eyes, Booker gave Tom a quizzical look as he felt a shiver of apprehension run down his spine.  “And what would that be?” he asked in a strained voice._
> 
> _Hanson remained silent for several moments before lifting his gaze and looking directly into Booker’s eyes.  “I have one final stage to complete in my exposure therapy and like with the tape, I want to do it with you.”_
> 
> _“Okay,” Booker replied slowly.  “Tell  me what it is.”_
> 
> _Swallowing deeply, Tom’s mouth twitched nervously.  “I need to go back to the warehouse,” he advised in a quiet voice.  “I need to go back to where our relationship began.”_
> 
> _Dennis took the time to absorb Tom’s words before replying.  “Why?”_
> 
> _Tom averted his gaze but Dennis immediately leaned forward and cupped his face in his hand.  “Hey,” he murmured softly.  “Tell me.”_
> 
> _Tom’s eyes misted over and he tried to smile but tears began to trickle down his face.  “Because I need you to forgive me,” he sobbed.  “I need you to forgive me for bringing you there and ruining your life.”_
> 
> _Pulling Tom into his arms, Dennis held him close.  “Oh baby,” he whispered.  “I’ve never held you responsible for what happened.  Why would you say that?”_
> 
> _Laying his head against Dennis’ chest, Tom took comfort from the warm embrace.  “Because it’s true,” he mumbled against the soft material of Booker’s t-shirt.  “If I’d reported the first rape things would have been different.”_
> 
> _Lifting Tom’s face, Booker gently kissed where his tears had fallen.  “You don’t know that,” he replied quietly.  “And anyway, it was my decision to go the warehouse without backup, not yours.”_
> 
> _When Tom did not answer, Dennis kissed him tenderly.  Pulling apart, he gazed deep into Tom’s troubled eyes.  “You really want to do this?” he asked him quietly._
> 
> _Hanson sniffed loudly and nodded his head.  “It’s the final piece,” he muttered.  “And then I’ll be whole.”_
> 
> _Tears filled Dennis’ eyes and pulling Tom to his chest, he gently stroked his hair.  “If that’s what you need to feel whole baby,” he whispered.  “Then that’s what we’ll do.”_   
> 

**Lyrics from "The Rain Song" by Led Zeppelin**

This is the springtime of my loving  
The second season I am to know  
You are the sunlight in my growing  
So little warmth I've felt before  
It isn't hard to feel me glowing  
I watched the fire that grew so low 

It is the summer of my smiles  
Flee from me Keepers of the Gloom  
Speak to me only with your eyes  
It is to you I give this tune  
Ain't so hard to recognise  
These things are clear to all from time to time 

Talk… Talk  
I've felt the coldness of my winter  
I never thought it would ever go  
I cursed the gloom that set upon us...  
But I know that I love you so 

These are the seasons of emotion  
And like the winds they rise and fall  
This is the wonder of devotion  
I see the torch we all must hold  
This is the mystery of the quotient  
Upon us all a little rain must fall  
It's just a little rain... 

 

 ****[The Rain Song](viewstory.php?sid=55342&chapter=48) 

_14th February – Valentine’s Day_

As Booker drove his Cadillac through the congested streets of downtown L.A., Tom stared silently out of the window.  In a few hours, they would return to the place where it had all begun, the place that had sealed not only their fate but also their destiny.  It was the place that had ultimately brought them together and it was the place that had the potential to tear them apart.

Turning towards his lover, he spoke in a quiet voice.  “Take the next street on the left.”  

When the Cadillac turned he instructed Dennis to pull up at the curb outside his home.  Unbuckling his seat belt, he started to open the door but a gentle hand pulled him back.  “Hey,” Booker murmured.  “Are you okay?”

Turning around, Tom managed a weary smile.  “I will be once this day is over,” he replied with a sigh.  “I can’t wait to get back to Sacramento so I can start to _live_ again instead of just existing.  I’m tired of just existing.”

Dennis unbuckled his seat belt and leaning over, he pressed his lips against Tom’s and kissed him lovingly.  “Not long now baby,” he replied.  “We’ll pack up your things, go to the warehouse and then if you want, we can start heading home.”

Hanson shook his head.  “No, it’s okay.  I really want to talk to Doctor Farmer again before we leave, so we’ll stick to the original plan.  We’ll stay for two days and then head back.  That’ll still give you a few days at home before you go back to work.”

Placing his hand against Tom’s cheek, Dennis gently caressed the soft skin with his thumb.  “Okay,” he agreed.  “Whatever you want.”

Climbing out of the car, Tom led Booker into the small studio apartment that he had called home for the last five months.  The main area consisted of a living room, bedroom and kitchenette.  The bathroom was the only other room in the cramped apartment and Tom felt a flicker of embarrassment as Dennis’ eyes took in his residence.  He had lost so much… his job, his home, his friends and for a period of time, himself.  However, through all the darkness and pain he had experienced in the last two years, there had always been a glimmer of light… Dennis.  Booker had become his friend, his lover and his salvation.  Without his friendship, love and support, Tom knew that he might not have survived his depression.  Even after Booker had left him, it was the need to have him back in his life that had spurred him on, that had helped him through the darkest of times so that he could emerge the other side not cured, but able to live in the world without fear.  Dennis was his _Mithra_ , his modern day savior who had rescued him from the darkness of his own mind and shown him the light.  He owed him so much and he hoped that one day, he would be able to repay him.

Sentimental tears filled his eyes and ducking his head in embarrassment, he quickly wiped them away.  When he felt strong arms circle his waist from behind, he choked back a sob and turning around, he buried his face against Dennis’ broad chest.  “Shhh,” Booker murmured into his hair.  “It’s okay baby, it’ll be over soon.”

Lifting his tear stained face, Tom managed a watery smile.  “Sorry,” he sniffed as he wiped the tears from his eyes.  “I’m just so fucking emotional.  I owe you so much and I don’t know how to thank you.”

Leading Tom over to the couch, Booker sat down and pulled him into his arms.  “You don’t have to thank me,” he scolded gently.  “I love you and I just want to see you happy.”

“I _am_ happy,” Tom replied quietly.  “You mean everything to me Dennis; you stood by me, even when I was at my worst.  I pushed you away but I’m glad you left because I needed to learn to stand on my own, I needed to take responsibility for my own recovery and I did and it’s all because of you.  I just wish I could make it up to you, I owe you my life.”

Dennis remained quiet for several moments before replying.  “You already have.  Tommy, I think you’ve forgotten a lot of what happened when we were in jail.  _I_ was the one that was floundering and you tried so hard to protect me not only from Martínez but also from myself.  I was self-destructive and that’s when _I_ pushed _you_ away.  You went against what I asked you to do and because of that, I went back to my life.  If anything, I owe you, not the other way around.  You saved me from my addiction and you saved me from having to experience any more abuse.  I don’t think I would have survived in prison so if you look at it that way, it’s me that owes _you_ my life.”

Tom stared at Booker in amazement.  He had never really thought about their experiences from his lover’s perspective and suddenly he realized that they had reached this exact moment in time because they had been there for each other.  They had each played a part in helping the other through their most trying times and they had permanently cemented their bond through their shared experiences.  They were a couple… they were Tom and Dennis and they were in love.

Lifting his head, Tom kissed Booker deeply.  Dennis moaned and pulling Tom closer he slipped his hand into the waistband of his jeans and squeezed his buttocks.  Hanson started to giggle and breaking the kiss, he pretended to scold his lover.  “Jesus Dennis, keep it in your pants.”

Dennis threw back his head and laughed.  He was happy to see Tom joking and smiling after such an emotional moment and it was proof of how far he had come in the last six months.  He no longer wallowed in his sadness, instead he expressed what he needed to express and moved on.  It was a heartwarming moment and Booker felt extremely proud of the man in his life.

Not wanting to break the happy mood, Dennis felt reluctant to bring up the purpose of their visit but he knew that the sooner they faced it, the sooner they could really begin their lives together.  Brushing Tom’s hair back from his smiling face, he gave him a gentle look.  “Shall we do this?” he asked quietly.

The smile slowly faded from Hanson’s face and he let out a sigh.  “I guess,” he replied despondently.

Booker took Tom’s hand in his and they stood up.  “This is the final piece,” he reminded his lover.  “After we do this, we have the rest of our lives to look forward to.”

Tom nodded his head and the two men left the apartment to face their past.

**

Standing outside of the warehouse that still haunted his nightmares, Tom felt as though he was going to be sick.  They had secured the key from the real estate agent and now that he was standing in the dark, foul smelling alleyway, he began to question the soundness of Doctor Farmer’s methods.  He did not want to relive his past anymore, he just wanted to put it behind him and move forward.  However, he trusted his psychologist and he knew that his was the final hurdle.  Once he did this, he would be free.

Turning to Booker, he managed a small smile.  “Ready when you are.”

Dennis’ hand trembled as he inserted the key into the lock.  Images of Tom lying naked and chained to a wall flashed into his mind and his stomach lurched.  He felt Tom’s fingers entwine in his own and he gave them a reassuring squeeze before pushing open the door.

The warehouse was empty.  There were no signs of their imprisonment left in the room, the bed, the table and the chains had all been removed long ago.  Tom stepped cautiously inside and looked around the twenty-foot space.  It was a room, nothing more and he suddenly realized why Daniel Farmer wanted him to revisit the warehouse.  There were no ghosts, no echoes of past screams; it was just an empty room.  The building had not caused him pain, Rory Bentley had and he was dead, choked to death by his own cruel instrument of restraint.  There was nothing left for him to fear, it was over and he had survived.

Sneaking a glance over at Booker, he saw sadness in his lover’s eyes.  “Hey,” he murmured.  “Are you okay?”

Dennis pulled himself from his ruminations and draping an arm around Tom’s shoulders, he pulled him close.  “It’s…” he began before falling silent.

“Just a room?” Tom asked in a quiet voice.

A hint of a smile played over Booker’s lips.  “Exactly,” he replied with a relieved sigh.  “It’s just a room.”

Putting his arm around Dennis’ waist, Tom took one last look at the lifeless space.  “Shall we go?”

“Yeah,” Dennis muttered.  “It’s over.”

“It’s over,” Tom echoed and turning away, the two men walked from the building.

**

Tom lay in bed waiting for Dennis to join him.  He was tired but happy.  Returning to the warehouse had not been the nightmare that he had envisaged and he finally felt free of the past.  Tomorrow would be the beginning of his new life with Booker and even though he knew he had many years of therapy left, he felt strong and confident enough to face it.

Dennis walked into the room and climbing into bed, he pulled Tom into his arms.  “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered as his mouth found Tom’s and he kissed him passionately.

Their kiss deepened and Hanson let out a soft moan as eager hands explored his naked body.  Pushing Dennis onto his back, he lay on top of him so that he could take control.  When they finally broke apart, he gazed down at his lover with bright shining eyes.  “Make love to me,” he murmured in a husky voice.

Booker’s eyes misted over.  They were the words he had waited a lifetime to hear and his heart swelled with love.  “Oh Tommy,” he whispered in a voice filled with emotion.  “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Tom replied softly.  “There’s condoms and lube in the bedside table.”  

Booker kissed Tom tenderly before opening the drawer.  Pulling out a condom and the lubrication, he tossed them onto the bed before gently flipping Hanson onto his back.  “Oh baby,” he murmured and leaning forward, he sucked at the raised nub of Tom’s nipple.  “I’m gonna make you squirm.”

Hanson closed his eyes as Dennis continued to explore his body with his mouth.  He cried out softly as full lips kissed his cockhead but he did not beg for more.  He wanted to give himself completely to his lover and therefore, he would allow him to set the pace.

Booker took his time exploring Tom’s slender frame and as the minutes passed, his cock began to swell.  When he was hard, he stopped and leaning over Tom’s naked body, he smiled down lovingly.  “Are you ready?” he asked.

“God yeah,” Tom moaned.  His breathing became more rapid as he watched Booker cover his finger in lubrication and he opened his bent legs in preparation.  

Dennis grinned in delight at the sight lying before him.  Positioning himself between Tom’s open legs, he placed his finger against his puckered hole and pushed.  “ _Yesss_ ,” Tom moaned as he felt Booker’s fingertip enter his body.  “Oh yes.”

Booker gently worked his finger in and out, as he expertly relaxed the tight wall of muscle.  When his finger was completely inside he gazed down at Tom adoringly.  “Put the condom on me,” he instructed softly.

Tom’s fingers searched around the bed until they finally came in contact with the square package.  Ripping it open, he expertly rolled it onto Booker’s erect cock.  Dennis carefully withdrew his finger and leaning forward, he supported himself on one arm whilst his other hand guided the tip of his cock until it pressed against Tom’s opening.  Lowering his head, he kissed his lover tenderly.  “God I love you,” he murmured.

Hanson’s eyes filled with tears and reaching out, he ran his finger down Dennis’ chiseled cheekbone.  “I love you too.”

Overcome with the need to feel Dennis inside him, Tom gave the signal by wrapping his legs around his lover’s waist.  He let out a low moan as Dennis slowly pushed inside his body.  “Make me yours,” he whispered.

Groaning softly, Dennis slowly rocked his hips forwards and backwards.  “Talk to me baby,” he murmured.  “Tell me how it feels.”

The sensation of Dennis’ cock thrusting inside him was exhilarating and Tom yearned for more.   “Harder,” he moaned.  “Oh God Dennis, harder!”

Shifting his position slightly, Dennis increased his pace and he was rewarded when Tom’s head arched back against the pillow.  “There!” Hanson gasped.  “Oh Dennis... there… there… there…”

Dennis felt Tom’s fingernails biting into the flesh of his upper arms but he was so caught up in the pleasure of the moment he barely noticed it.  Gazing deep into Tom’s eyes, he thrust deeper into his tight anus.  “Do you want me to touch you?” he panted.

Hanson’s head moved from side to side.  “No… no… no…” he moaned.  “I just… want you… inside me.”

Booker’s eyes grew black with excitement.  “Can you feel me?” he groaned.

“ _Yesss_ ,” Tom moaned.  “Oh God yes!”

Gazing down at Tom’s weeping cock, Dennis began to thrust harder.  “Do you wanna come?” he teased.

“Oh God Dennis,” Tom gasped.   “I wanna come… make me come!”

Dennis immediately increased his pace.  “Come for me baby,” he panted as he pounded his cock in and out of Tom’s body.  “I wanna see you come.”

“Ooh… ooh… ooh…” Tom cried.  “I’m coming… oh God Dennis, I’m _COMMMING!_ ”

Tom’s orgasm hit hard and fast and he ejaculated forcefully over his stomach.  The sight was so erotic, it pushed Dennis over the edge and with an impassioned yell, he reached his climax.  As his body shuddered out its release, Tom pulled him into his arms and kissed him passionately.  

Minutes passed and their kiss gradually slowed.  Lifting his head, Dennis smiled down at Tom.  “Oh baby,” he whispered.  “You’ve made me the happiest man alive.”

Tom grinned back and after several minutes of slow, tender kissing, Dennis rolled onto the mattress and pulling off the condom, he threw it on the floor.  Turning on his side, he draped his arm across Tom’s waist.  As they lay in silence, he studied Tom’s wistful expression.  “What are you thinking about,” he asked as he gently ran his fingers through Tom’s tousled hair.

“That I was wrong,” Hanson replied drowsily.  

Dennis’ hand stilled and propping himself up on his elbow, he gazed down into his lover’s beautiful face.  “About what?”

A satisfied smile spread over Tom’s face.  “Going back to the warehouse wasn’t the final piece,” he answered in a tranquil voice.  “You are.”

_Finis  
_


End file.
